


They said that'd be there for you

by Little_Firestar84



Category: Bull (TV 2016)
Genre: Eventual Romance, F/M, Flash Fic, Friendship, Multichapter, One Shot Collection, Reader-Insert, chronological order, episode tags
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-11-29
Updated: 2020-05-08
Packaged: 2021-02-26 01:47:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 91
Words: 63,569
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21605533
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Little_Firestar84/pseuds/Little_Firestar84
Summary: Over half your life- that's how long you've known Jason Bull. When tragedy strikes, Jason will be there for you, with his friendship, his emotional support and a chance to start anew -and maybe, just maybe, he'll try playing Cupid, too. Series companion, collection of short fics.
Relationships: Benny Colón/Reader, Jason Bull & Benny Colón, Jason Bull & Reader, Jason Bull/Isabella Colón
Comments: 5
Kudos: 24





	1. 1.0 Prologue

**Author's Note:**

> Collection of flash-fics, all episode tags, following the series in chronological order.

“Damn it!” You hiss at low voice as you make your way through the ocean of people, spilling the two glasses of wine onto your brand new dress – at least it's white and it'll be easier to get the stains out. 

Still, it _ is_ brand new, and you can barely afford it with your cop salary- not your fault your best friend/college buddy is marrying a celebrity and he just _had_ to threw a flashy party – so you are not going to go and pay the cleaners as well. Whoever was dumb enough to nudge you on the side is going to pay… literally. 

“Ehy!” You yell almost at the top of your lungs, hoping that the man, already moving over, will hear you over the beat of the music. 

He stops, slowly turns and stares at you, dumbfounded at first, positively surprised then, when your eyes met, and you both recognize each other. 

_ Damn it,  _ you think, yet again, although this time you aren’t mad- you’re just a bit embarrassed and have been caught off guard. Of all the people you could have met here, did it really have to be someone you know? Someone that you, sort of….

“Detective! Never thought I would have met you here!” ADA Benjamin Col ò n greets you, lifting his own glass to you as to cheer.

“Well, you know what they say, it’s a small world!” you’re actually dribbling, and you hate yourself for this fact alone. You’re an adult, a cop, a professional, you’ve dealt with your good share of perps of the worst kind, and yet, a man drives you to your knees? Just because he happens to be extremely good-looking, extremely talented at his job and with an heart of gold?

Shame on you, my dear. Shame on you!

“Oh, by the way, I meant to tell you, you really did a great job with the Donovan case. Haven’t seen a jury deliberating so quickly in a long time!”

He scratches the back of his neck, blushing a little at your compliment – so, so adorable. “Ah, please. You and your team cut me the majority of my job. Between the evidence you collected and the witnesses you found, he had no way to walk out a free man.”

You bite your lips, almost giggling, feeling a bit like walking on cloud nine. It’s so rare to find someone in the DA office willing to actually help the victims and purse all the cases, even the ones that seem unwinnable… and to find an ADA who actually appreciates the work of the cops? Even rarer, sometimes.

You’d sigh, if he wasn’t right before you right now. Why, oh, why does he have to be so damn perfect? 

“Ehy, soon-to-be brother in law of mine, I see you met my favorite fifth woman in the world!” Jason joins you two, patting Benjamin on the shoulders. He’s happy – as happy as you haven’t seen him in a very long time – although his glassy eyes seem to suggest he may have already had too much to drink. “This girl, here? She was my best buddy back in the day! No one played poker like she did! Benny, my man, you’d be impressed!” 

You sip your drink. “Oh, please, Jase. You barely make it in my top ten.” That’s what he gets for having put you in the “one of the guys/surrogate little sister” category. Serve him right. 

“Fun fact, Bull: we already know each other. I’ve worked many cases with her unit.”

“Like I said, small world!”

Jason drunkenly giggles, grasping both you and the ADA for your shoulders, looking from you to Benny. “My old best friend and my new best friend… I don’t know why I didn’t think about introducing you two before!”

“Jase, we do know each other.” You repeat again, talking slowly, carefully choosing the words as he was a five year old.

“Yes, Yes, I know, but knowing each other _through me_ makes everything more interesting, don’t you think? Besides, had I introduced you two, say, last year, I’m pretty sure that right about now…”

He stops his rambling as he stares at you, eyes wide open in shock and pursed lips. He can’t believe you just did it: you just crushed his foot to shut him up- and he hates it, he absolutely hates it, you can read it in his eyes. 

But the fact is, you knew what he was about to say, and you couldn’t allow him to voice such a ridiculous and idiotic thought, not right before someone else- it’s one thing when Jason lectures you while you are waiting in line at Starbuck or when he invites you at poker night with people you don’t know and you’ll never, ever see again in your whole life… but this is different. You know Benny. You work with him, for God’s sake!

Besides… the more Jason says it, the more real it gets – the more you’ll start thinking that maybe, just maybe, he could happen to be right. That you made a colossal mistake. 

“Ehy, babe, I was starting to think you’d get lost!” An heavy, hot hand possessively on your hip, and a stubbly kiss on your neck, signal the arrival of what Jason has always considered your biggest mistake (“One day, you’ll look back at this day and you’ll come to regret this decision. But no matter what, even if I don’t agree with you, even if I don’t like your choices, I’ll be there for you.”).

Right at your side, Noah, your husband, smiles- but you know it’s tainted, icy. Jason doesn’t likes him, and the feeling is pretty much mutual, as you’ve learnt. 

The air between you all is tense, and you clench your teeth, knowing that, for having come to this party alone, you’ll have to deal with glares and silence and that he’ll sleep in the guest room – best case scenario – or he’ll find an excuse to go and visit his mother. Just to punish you. Just make you feel guilty. Small. Inadequate. Not enough. 

Still, this is the choice you made, and you’ll endure this, for as long as it takes, for the sakes of your marriage.

You’ll prove to everyone that you’re not your father’s daughter. You’ll be better. You’ll make it work. Somehow. 

You hope. 


	2. 1.1 The Necklace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, why do you think everyone end up living in their father’s shadow?”

With the trial over and the real culprit delivered to justice, late at night, Jason’s drinking alone in his office, almost everyone already gone when you join him. 

“So, why do you think everyone end up living in their father’s shadow?”You casually ask him leaning against the glass door. He doesn’t answer, he makes a sound that sound like an _uh_ as he was considering his answer. So, you enter the office and flop down on the seat in front of him. “Me. You. This poor kid.”

He pours you a drink – scotch, neat, your favorite. “Our fathers weren’t that bad. I mean, I think we are pretty decent people, all things considered.”

You shake your head and chuckle, a bit cynical. “Your father was a con-man, my father went through women as if they were underwear, both of them never said just once that they loved us. Trust me, it’s a miracle neither of us became a serial killer. Although I’m pretty sure that I could get away with murder.”

“Of course you could - between your knowledge of how to handle crime scenes, how I can read and manipulate any jury and all the great lawyers in my pocket, you’d never spend a day in jail.” He snickers, but then the silence falls heavy between you two. You play with your glass, twirling, and the movements of the scotch, the twirls, the waves, are almost hypnotic. Almost. 

Jason clears his throat, and you know he is going to be serious. And that it’s bad. “I know we don’t normally do this open hearted conversations thing, but… I have to ask. Have you been talking with someone?”

“You are a psychologist, we are currently talking, hence it’s like I was seeing a therapist. There. You happy” You drink your scotch in one gulp and stand up and make your way out of his office.. This isn’t a conversation you want to have. That you are ready to have. Not now, maybe never.

But then, maybe angered and annoyed at his silence, you stop, and turn on your heels, and you come face to face with Jason, pointing a finger at him like an accusation. “Ok, you know what? You don’t get to tell me how to live my life or deal with… with everything. When Izzie divorced you, you closed yourself in this room listening to the same old song for _weeks._ You didn’t go to a therapist, I didn’t tell that you were supposed to. So, could you please, just please, repay the favor?”

“Izzie was divorcing me. She wasn’t dead.” He calmly says, as he was your therapist- all he lacks are the joined hands on his belly and then he’d be the perfect picture of a shrink.

“Stop, just, stop. Noah was a cop, he died in the line of duty, I was a cop, we both knew the dangers and we walked in with our eyes wide open. I don’t need to see a therapist to move on with my life.”

“You think that moving, that leaving the Force after twenty years and coming to work for me is moving on? You are not moving on, you are just avoiding triggers, and it’s wrong, and in the long run it’ll ruin you.” He spats, almost like it was venom.

“Please. You didn’t even like Noah to begin with!”

Jason pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes closed for a second, and breaths in, out. “Of course I didn’t like him, he made you unhappy and he was manipulative and emotionally abusive. The only reason you stayed with him as long as you did, it’s because you wanted to prove that you were a good catholic girl who’d keep her family together, no matter what, that you weren’t anything like your old man and you could make any marriage work. Still, he was your husband, and there’s been a time that you’ve loved him and that he had made you happy– _that_ I accept. But you don’t need to keep bearing this cross any longer.”

You shake your head, barely holding back the tears burning your eyes, stinging.. “You don’t know anything.” You hiss between sobs, leaving his office, slamming the glass door shout.

He throws his glasses on his table and sighs – this wasn’t how he had pictured this conversation to go. Not at all. 


	3. 1.2 The Woman in 8-D

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "I’ll need Chunk to get me an uniform and I’ll show you that what we are dealing with here is, indeed, gender bias.”

“This is mock trial number… what, five?” You ask as you seat down on one of the many crates around the TAC headquarters, transfixed at the sight right before you – you, Marissa, Cable, Chunk and Danny are all looking at the screens as Benny tries yet again the defense strategy of Captain Taylor Mathison.

He tries… and fails. Again. 

Leaning against a wall, Bull overlooks the whole situation, glasses in hand, carefully reflecting on their next step. 

“I don’t understand. Her service record is exceptional. She books as many hours as the other pilots. We even sweetened her appearance. But we keep failing. Why?” Chunk can barely believe it. the sixth failure. Once again, Taylor is guilty – and with no real evidence whatsoever.

You bite your lips as you narrow your eyes. “You know, when I was the director of the Crime Lab, I think it was a couple of years ago, one day, I was in my office - I wasn’t behind the desk, but looking through the library for some book, when suddenly there’s a knock on the door, and this windbag comes in. He is a bigshot lawyer of a guy we are investigating on, a dirtbag with his fingers in a lot of pies, and he wants to make sure that we know that his client knows a lot of people where it counted.”

“So, bigshot lawyers are assholes- kind of got the feeling every time Taylor’s lawyer walks in. Your point?” Danny asks, eyebrows quizzically lifted.

“My point is, as soon as he walks in, he asks me for coffee and to call my boss, all smug and arrogant, and I’m not finished telling him that _I’m_ the boss that this kid – a lab technician who wasn’t even thirty yet and till had pimples – he walks in to give me a report. And you know what arrogant bastard does as soon as he sees the kid? He changes- all friendly and respectful.”

“He thought the guy was your boss. It makes sense. Happened to me a lot back in the FBI. People treated me like a doll, but the men where their guys.”

You wave your hand right before you in emphasis. “And it’s not just the men. Women, too, thought a woman couldn’t handle science or being a cop. But if they were to have to deal with a man, they’d be different. Totally. They wouldn’t question his knowledge, his record, anything..”

“That, ladies and gentleman, is called gender bias. Our jury isn’t judging Taylor’s service record, how many hours she booked, how talented and good she is. They are judging her gender. The fact that only four pilots out of one hundred are women.”

“And how do we know for sure that this is what we are dealing with?” 

Bull grins at Danny’s question. “Well, I’ll need Chunk to get me an uniform and I’ll show you that what we are dealing with here is, indeed, gender bias.” 


	4. 1.3 Unambiguus

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is it just me, or did you just use this case to make Benny and Amanda reconcile?”

“Is it just me, or did you just use this case to make Benny and Amanda reconcile?” You ask as you and Bull toast with the finest champagne. You are on his couch, looking at the team outside the glass walls, alone, wrapped in your own little bubble- just like old times, back at school, when you and Jason were more often than not the outsiders, the unwanted kids, although for different reasons.

“Nah, just an happy coincidence.” He grins. You remember again when he alone befriended you, breaking one by one your walls. He once joked that the only thing you couldn’t accuse him was of having an heart, that he didn’t trust humanity. He did his own things for his own benefits, he used to say (and he still does), and yet, he has the biggest heart this side of the Ocean. 

If he didn’t, you wouldn’t be here today.

He grins, looking at Benny smiling at Amanda, her body language clear as a star shining in the night even to a former forensicinvestigator such as yourself: she is flirting. She’d take him back in an heartbeat, and Benny would likely accept the offer. 

“Oh, c’mon Jase. I don’t believe in coincidences and neither do you. I think….” You chuckle. “I think that this here may be the happy result of a masterful manipulation.” 

You sigh. Years ago, you used to have a huge crush on the then ADA, but you’ve never acted on your feelings – you just couldn’t allow yourself to, not when you were still married. Time has passed, ship has sealed, but you wonder if maybe, just maybe, there’s still something lurking under the surface, some unresolved feelings you are pretty sure you still have for him. Just like when, after a case solved, you see Benny smiling at you, celebrating the big win, or when he decides that it’s with you that he wants to talk to, that he wants to confide in.

(Just like the other day, when he got to try a case after over an year and you were one of the first people he told.) 

Still, Jason smiles- the sort of smile that seems to carry a secret- and looks at you as he knew you the best, like he could read you inside out (and maybe, just maybe, he does- he is literally in the business of reading people, after all) and he tings his glass against your own. 

“You know, if she said she’d take him back, he’d do it, in an heartbeat, but that wasn’t my intention. When Amanda broke up with him after he was fired, for the longest time, Benny has been a mess. This wasn’t about rekindling some kind of old flame. It was about getting closure, about getting our boy his confidence back.”

“Not my boy.” You chuckle, lowering your gaze on your still full glass of champagne, and lean with your head against your old friend. You sigh as he pats your shoulder. 

“I know, kiddo, I know.” 

And he looks at you, a bit sad, his mind and his heart somewhere else. _Still, wouldn’t you like it? Wouldn’t you want him?_ He seems to ask.

He knows your secrets.

He always has.


	5. 1.4 Callisto

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Technically, it’s a small town in West Texas, but I like to think of it as a place somewhere between the sixth and seventh circles of Hell.”  
> “Are you sure? I’m pretty sure last time you said it was between the third, gluttony, and the fourth, avarice.”

“He’s suing her in….Callisto.” Cable chuckles as the majority of you hold your breaths and already foretastes defeat. Callisto is definitely a bad sign – and indication that the poor girl is going against a very clever man.

“I’m sorry… Callisto?” Chunk looks at you all, confused. He seems even surprised that even you are freezing, despite having worked there shorter than him. 

You may have been working there for a very short time… but you’ve known Jason longer than them.

“Technically, it’s a small town in West Texas, but I like to think of it as a place somewhere between the sixth and seventh circles of Hell.” Jason smirked, patting the leather armrest of his chair.

“Are you sure? I’m pretty sure last time you said it was between the third, gluttony, and the fourth, avarice.” 

Jason rolls his eyes at your comment – clever in your eyes, not so much so in his, and he makes a movement as to shoo you.

“So, you’ve been there before?” Chunk asks, clearly surprised, and Jason can only nod.

“Callisto is a litigation speed trap, they pretty much made an industry of patent cases. It’s pretty smart, actually. The plaintiffs hire local lawyers, it’s a small town, so the juries like those local lawyers, and if a local lawyer represents a plaintiff, then the plaintiff must be right. Juries apply their love of local lawyers to whoever they represent.”

“So, how did you beat them last time?” Benny asks, apparently in the dark about the whole ordeal. Contrary to you and Marissa, both sporting a worried expression.

“He didn’t.” you sigh as you follow your long-time friend as he leaves the room, all proud and satisfied and smug. He has a plan- it’s Jason, he always has- but remember Callisto all too well. And you’re not fond of the days following that particular trial.

“Ok, I get it, you want payback, but you were listening to what you just told us, right?” You ask as you catch up with him, and walk backward toward the elevator, facing the good doctor. “that poor girl will end up penniless and you’ll have to face another… what did you call it last time? A deep downward spiral?”

He chuckles, shamelessly. “You know what they say, from the bottom of an hole, it’s easy to see the light!”

You nod, biting your lips. “Right. Then, why, when thinking about Callisto, I have this image of you, sleeping on my couch without a care for your personal hygiene, with a blanket over your head to keep the light out?”

He grins. “Again: once you reach top bottom, you can clearly see the light!”

You sigh, at his side by elevator doors. “Fine, You got a plan, good to know. Do you want me to prepare a care package in case something goes south? Candles, chocolate and a cozy blanket?”

He chuckles, squeezing your shoulder. “Oh, woman of little faith. Get some experts in molecular biology ready to come to Texas and testify, just in case. I’ll think of the rest. After all, we’re gonna be on the side of the better angel - it’s gonna be an hell of a fun ride!”

The doors close behind him, and you sigh. “Yep. That’s gonna be fun, all right. Unless we all lose it.”

You pick your phone and check through your contacts, getting the list of available experts ready for Bull. Still, you also check Amazon and put an order for scented candles and aromatherapy oils, write an email to your trusted distillery for a bottle of scotch and write down to drop by the drugstore for a bottle of tablets for migraine and some dark chocolate bars. You are gonna get the care package ready. Just in case Jason lose the case and decided to drop by to mourn his loss. 


	6. 1.5 Just Tell The Truth

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You quickly look at Benny, talking and laughing with Bull about who knows what, and that longing, that feelings you’ve buried (or at least you thought you did) seem to come back with a vengeance.   
> A long time ago, you’ve wanted him. There are days when you think you still do.

“Would it be bad if I accepted a date from a former client? And please, note the emphasis on _former_.” You suggestively smirk at Marissa, as you join Cable at her desk. You pick on your fingernails, sitting on your coworker’s desk.

“That guy from the litigation suit? I did see him sending you some rather suggestive look.”

“Want me to dig some dirty? Check your text before you hit send?” Cable ask you, smiling and making lightly fun of you.

“Is it how it’s done nowadays? You google your dates, you Facebook-stalk them? I’m kind of rusty at this. Last times I did it, you were supposed to trust your guts and let the relationship develop on its own.”

Cable snickered. “And when was that? In the stone age? Besides, where’s the fun if we can’t use our tools from work to play?”

Marissa sighs, a bit dreamily, like remembering some very fond memories, and gently pats you on the shoulder, like she was giving some sisterly advice she is sure of. “My ex and I had open access. I gave him my phone, he gave me his. It was really liberating.”

“And romantic!”

“And probably the reason you divorced!” you add. “Still, this would be my, you know, my first date in a while, and I’m not sure it’d be wise, to mix business and pleasure.”

“Aren’t you working for, like, your best friend? I mean, you and Doctor Bull have this weird thing going around, with those crazy siblings-like vibes?” Cable asks you, quizzically, and you sigh, snickering. 

“You want to know how he used to call me? _One of the guys._ One Christmas, he even gave me a signed copy of this novel, _really_ titled One of The Guys. Said to carefully read it and get the real mean behind the story, which, honestly, I still have to get.”

“Seriously, if you want me, I can do some recon.” Cable chuckles, but you shake your head as you are about to leave, hands in your pockets. 

“Nah. You know what? I’d rather be surprised. Besides, it’s just a date, and I _really_ need to start from somewhere if I want to get back in the game, right?”

You pick you phone, ready to send the awaited text, but when you hear Benny’s laugh in the next room, something stops you. You quickly look at him, talking and laughing with Bull about who knows what, and that longing, that feelings you’ve buried (or at least you thought you did) seem to come back with a vengeance. 

A long time ago, you’ve wanted him, and there are days when you still think so, when you still dare to dream. But you are just one if the guys for him (always have, always will be), a tomboy with an attitude better with guns and vials than with people, while his exes were glamorous, feminine, stylish and, like all good lawyers, with quite the silver tongue.

_ Dreams don’t always come true,  _ you tell yourself as you hit send. 

You just got yourself a date.

(And the chance of getting Benny Col ò n out of your head for a while.)


	7. 1.6 Bedside Manner

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just mark my words, my dear: one day, you’ll find a nice man whose only mission in life will be making you happy. "

“So, I heard you had a date. How did it go?” With the case closed, you are all celebrating at TAC, and the party, quickly put together by that amazing party and event planner who happens to be your older sister, is perfectly themed: the Greek Mythology.

You lightly elbow Jason in the side. “How many times I’ve been telling you to stop cold-reading me? If I have to tell you something, I’ll tell you. On my own.”

He sighs, exaggerating, pretending to be annoyed. “Ah, you take all the fun away from being me. C’mon, you just got your first date after years, you should be over the moon, drink champagne like there was no tomorrow!”

You puff, looking at your friend wondering if he is being serious – which he is. “Seriously? My first date in years- my first date as a widow- and you think it went well? It was… awful and scary and I was a nervous wreck… besides, I think… I don’t know. He seemed to be too much high-maintenance. Too much effort. Not really my cup of tea right now. Bad enough that I pretty much have my hands full with you. Don’t really feel like also dating a difficult man.”

Jason laughs, lazily scratching the back of his head, full aware of his shortcomings, and he returns the elbow. Suddenlya bit serious, but still serious, he toasts with you, your glasses clinking.“Just mark my words, my dear: one day, you’ll find a nice man whose only mission in life will be making you happy and make sure to see that pretty smile of yours whenever he has the chance to.”

You rest your head on his shoulder, and your eyes fall on Marissa and her exchange with her ex. She seems finally at peace, and you wonder if, one day, you’ll ever feel the same – liberated enough with your life that you’ll finally allow yourself the chance to truly move on..


	8. 1.7 Never Saw The Sign

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you ever miss being married?”

“So, seriously, who is this mystery man you are dating?” Sitting around the table at a small deli, slouched over your seat, you pat the seat next to yours for Marissa, who blushes a little and seems to be carrying some sort of secret. “C’mon, I left you guys inquire over my dating life, I get to do the same for you.”

She tsk-tsks you. “Uh, uh. Sorry girl, we don’t investigate our coworkers here at TAC.”

You smirk, clearly impressed, amused by your little exchange. You like Marissa- not only because she is one of the few people able to handle Bull’s quirks, but because she is good. Decent. A moral compass. 

“Yes, but, Bull always says that I shall not stop at the first thing anyone tells me but push, push and push some more.” 

She shakes her head, but there’s no anger, no annoyance. If nothing else, she is impressed and at easy with you. “You and Bull are really two peas in a pod.”

“Not really.” You sip your water. “I’m never been good at cold-reading people. Especially when they were close to me. Bull, on the other hand, he cold-read people like it was business. Which I guess it is.” Your mind goes back to your marriage, to your relationship with Noah, to your father. The men in your life always ended up disappointing you, breaking you a tiny little bit. And you’ve always allowed them to. Always took them back. 

Sometimes, you really don’t get people- or maybe, just maybe, like Jason uses to say, deep, deep down, you still have faith in humanity. After all, without faith, why bothering defending the innocents? Why assuming people were innocent to begin with? 

“You are not good at reading people but know I’m dating?” She asks you, elbow on the table, her chin in the palm of her hand, smiling eyes fixed on you. 

“I may be one of the guys, like Bull keeps informing people, but despite my preference for jeans and low heels,I’m also a woman. You leave early in the evenings, arrive later in the mornings but still on time, you’ve changed your outfit every day this week but keeping the same color palette _and_ you are using “J’Adore”, which you’ve never sued before, as far as I know.”

She laughs, openly- so much so that you can see Bull sending a curious glance in your general direction. “You don’t know how to read people but you know my perfume?”

You just roll your eyes. “I adore J’Adore.” You say, pouting a little. “C’mon Marissa, I’m practically living by proxy when it comes to love life. Besides, I let you guys question me when I went out with that guy. I even allowed Cable to cyber-stalk him!” 

Silence falls between you, and Marissa takes an odd quality – she is smiling, and yet she seems far away. She takes a big breath, and then, oddly finding her nails interesting like nothing else before, she starts talking. “Greg, my ex…. I called him. I just… I realized that the reasons that drove our divorce aren’t there any longer. And… I don’t know. Do you ever missed being married?”

You sip your drink, drink the water directly from the bottle. Like Marissa, you stay in silence longer than you should be comfortable with. She doesn’t push the issue, but it’s clear she is curious. 

Like all good former NSA agents, she wants to know the truth. 

Just like Bull probably though her, she needs when she isn’t supposed to push, she knows how to get what she wants. 

“No,” you just answer, sighing, looking with semi-closed eyes and heavy lids at the table. “No, I really don’t. But I guess it’s just me. Haven’t seen a lot of marriages work, so, better not to push my luck, right?” You hope Marissa won’t push the issue. It’s bad enough knowing all too well what Jason’s concerned, and sometimes pitiful, glances mean. You don’t need someone else to join the pity party, moreover, you don’t want to: you want to keep your secrets yours for a little longer. 

When Chunk annoyingly notes that he is sick of tired of people always ordering pineapple pizza( and that pineapple pizza shouldn’t be considered pizza to begin with), you crack a smile, pretending to have already forgotten what you and Marissa were talking about. 

But you don’t, and the dreams hunt you down for too many nights for your own good. 

(And in the next few days, if Jason’s look is of any comfort or consolation, he knows- and he gets it.)


	9. 1.8 Too Perfect

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “No. Nope. No way. No, no, no, no, and no. How many times am I supposed to say no? That it’s a bad idea to represent your ex-wife?”

The bartender- twenty something stylish millennial bored to his death and with a haircut more expensive than half your wardrobe put together – keeps glaring at you with his stern Russian stare. He keeps sending meaningful looks at the bouncer- a seemingly Russianguy with a less than reassuring scar across his face – as you keep nervously tap your fingers on the glass surface of the counter. 

You can’t help it. Flashy venuesand fancy dresses (like the one your boss and supposed friend asked you to change into) aren’t your thing – just because you were born a socialite, it doesn’t mean you had ever liked it, or felt at home under the spotlight. You are a fish out of water, and even Jason is looking at you like a stern, disapproving parent (a bit like your father used to when you accompanied him at parties just to go and hide somewhere in the company of a book). The only one unaware of your discomfort, is Benny, too busy enjoying his scotch. 

“So, when was the last time you bought me a $47 glass of scotch?” Benny asks as he sips carefully the drink, committing it to memory. 

“When was the last time he had bought anyone a $47 glass of scotch, you mean.” Without a care, you swallow the glass in one drink. Coughing twice as it burns down your throat. “Which brings us to the question… what exactly do you need a lawyer and a forensic expert for? And please, don’t tell me you arranged blind dates for us, because I could kill you. Been there, done that, so not ready.” 

Jason sends you a sideways look, barely resisting chuckling and making fun of you. “Oh, dear, dear girl. If I were to arrange a blind date for you, I would ask you to wear that tiny little golden number I know you keep hidden in your wardrobe, not a blouse and a skirt.”

You sigh, your glance full of meaning: you are getting tired. You are already tired after a long day, TAC’S not the only company you consult with, and you are getting bored. You want one thing and one thing alone: your bed, and falling asleep there. You really don’t feel like playing along with Jason’s antics.

“So… a client? And you are trying to.. what, bribe us with free drinks? You are the boss, Jase. You don’t need to bribe your employees with drinks to get people to cooperate with one of your crazy plans.”

Benny smirks, pointing a finger at you.. “Hate to admit it, but she is right. I mean, it almost feels like you are about to ask me to accompany my daughter to the prom.”

“Oh, please. Neither of you happens to have a daughter.” Jason sighs, and, with a guilty expression, turns to face his longtime friend and in-house counselor. “On the other hand, _you_ happen to have a sister….”

“No. Nope. No way.” Benny, without looking at any of you, stands up, and starts arranging the buttons of his jacket, shaking his head. “No, no, no, no, no. How many times am I supposed to say no? That it’s a bad idea to represent your ex-wife?”

“Benny, this isn’t about my ex-wife. It’s about… _your_ sister.” He turns to face you. “She is being sued, wrongful death and gross negligent. The plaintiff hired a top firm that’s suing over 60 million. Which means she’ll have to bankrupt. She’ll be destroyed, financially and emotionally. Now, they called us because they wanted the best. Her lawyers says I’m the best, this girls is one of the most respected forensic experts of the country when it comes to trace analysis and poisons.”

Biting your lips, you wave the bartender, asking for another drink. That’s not your place- just because someone is, was your friend, doesn’t mean you should be there. Especially considering what Bull is really trying to do- fix things, people. 

“Bull, she hasn’t spoken to me in over three years. And I live in her same city.”

You coughs in your drink. Three years? It’s a very long time, and given the fact that Benny and Izzy had always been so, so close, it’s surprising and crazy. 

It’s also surprising and crazy, given that, only last year, after Noah passed, Izzy even stopped by at your place with all the kinds of comfort food needed in such a dark moment. You can’t understand: she knows you just because you’ve always been friend with her ex-husband, and yet, she took more care of you than her own brother?

The world’s going crazy.

“Besides, today we are just meeting the lawyer!”

You roll your eyes as you see in the mirror before you who’s just entered the bar, and it’s definitely not the lawyer- it’s Izzy in person. The breath dies in your throat and you are struck with envy. You haven’t seen her in a long time.

“Yeah… Boys, I think she may have changed her mind at the last minute.”

Before you’ve finished the sentence, she is already sitting next to you, as perfect and as beautiful as always. 

“Hello, sis.”Benny laments as he refuses to meet his sister’s eyes. 

“Well, it’s been too long, boys….” She squeezes your shoulder, gently, reassuring. “And, sweetie, it’s good to see you too.”

You just nod, your lips sealed as you take a big breath and wonder if another drink would be advisable. You really don’t want to be here, nor getting in the middle of whatever absurd plan Bull is coming up with. 

“Well, sis, you got yourself in a hell of a predicament.” Benny studies his sister, his look hard. 

“Well, Benny, thanks for the sympathy, but there’s zero chances it’s my company’s fault. We have the strictest safety standard.”

You lift your hand and stood up, putting your jacket on. “With all due respect, but I’m pretty sure I’m the one who’s supposed tosay that. I’ll need full access to your labs, the incriminated factory, the hazard registry, all the registries with logs of entry and exit of raw materials and finishing products, certifications of origin… whatever you have. For the last year. Paper or digital it’s the same. And you…” You point a finger at Bull. “I’ll need a letter of appointment on headed notepaper. And don’t forget you are supposed to send a copy to the counterpart as well to let them know you hired me.”

Hands in the pockets of your coat, you smirk. “So, when do I leave?”

“So, what is this story I hear about your sister firing us?” You let a big box full of analysis fall a bit unceremoniously on Benny’s desk, lifting an eyebrow. “Because I’ve already started collecting samples, and I’d need to know if I’m supposed to actually analyze any of that- pshysico-chemical examinations ain’t cheap.” 

He shakes his head, arms crossed. “She wants me to go back to her and… and beg her to take me back. This isn’t about the job, but, she just can’t admit it.”

You grab a chair from another desk, and seat right before benny. You squeeze his knee, forcing him to give you the proper attention. “Ok, fine, let’s say this is personal. But, have you considered that you could have hurt her feelings? When you didn’t accept her job, she felt rejected, abandoned. By someone she was used to have around the whole time.”

Realizing your hand is still there, you take it away, abruptly, as it were burning. You seat on the chair, your legs crossed. “Benny, I’m a sister, a _little sister._. I’ve got three siblings, and even if J.J is in Miami and my sisters are in L.A, I couldn’t imagine not spending Thanksgiving with them, or.. just not talking with them whenever I felt like.”

“I just don’t get. How can she still be mad with me, just because of a job?” 

You shake your head, smirking, patting his knee. “Benny, this isn’t about a job. This is about Izzy feeling rejected when you refused- in favor of _Jason._ Not that he wanted to. Not consciously, at least. Because, let’s be honest: he would have been blunt and cruel about the whole thing if that was what he was after. _”_

“What?” He looks at you as you were crazy, or had suddenly grown a second head. 

You took a big breath, exasperated. Men. They really can be dense when they want. “Benny, she thinks you picked Jason’s side in the divorce. That you prefer your friends over your own flash and blood.”

“But I didn’t pick any sides! I, for once,picked my own side! I’m doing something that I like, and I love my life, I’m happy!”

You smile at him, at his passion. You’d want to squeeze his shoulder, run your hand through his hair, give him an encouragement kiss on the cheek, but you don’t (he’s not yours, after all).

“Then, why don’t you go and tell her yourself, instead of telling _me_?”

He smiles and runs away, without saying anything. 


	10. 1.9 Light My Fire

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "“So, if you hate your dad, why did you keep his cabin all these years?"

“So,if you hate your dad, why did you keep his ca bin all these years? And you never came?” 

Sitting around the fireplace outside what used to be Jason’s cabin, you grin as Cable asks the million dollars question. Jason doesn’t answer immediately, he plays with his brand new guitar and chuckles. 

You get it. You get him right about now. Growing up, you both had difficult relationships with your fathers- Jason’s was a con-man who forced him to move from one day to the next one, yours was so much in love with love that, once the blissful honeymoon phase would beover and done with, would get you and your siblings and move to another town to mend his broken heart. Neither of you had ever had any real friends growing up, you were the outcasts, the crazy and weird kids of the womanizer who loved to fall in love with very rich and successful women, very often old enough to be his mothers. 

And then, College – and your life began for real, finally. And more often than not, you think that only Jason- who befriended you when you didn’t know how to let people in – is the reason you were finally able to become who you are today. Be where you are standing.

Smart. Sort of Successful. Respected. 

Among friends and loved ones.


	11. 1.10 E.J.

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just think that paper and pen are better. And by pen I mean my Montblanc.”

“Fine, she is smart, but I don’t think Einstein would have devoted his life to the development of autonomous vehicles.”

Always smug and a bit full of himself, Bull pats his belly, making lightly fun of Benny. “Benny, are you technophobic?” he mocks, followed by Cable. 

“I just think that paper and pen are better. And by pen I mean my Montblanc.”

“Technophobe!” Cable howls. 

“Don’t be mean. I mean,” You interjects. “Think about it. Smart devices are constantly connected, that’s why they know how to answer and when to answer. So, were I to have an Alexa dot, while she tells me about the weather only when I ask “Alexa, how’s the weather gonna be tomorrow?”, meanwhile, she’d be listening onto me and recorded everything else – from me talking with my cats or getting lectured by my sister because I’m still single and I’m not any closer to give her any nephew.She’d even know if I were to happen to be intimate. And everything would be recorded and kept who knows where for who knows how long and for reasons we don’t really know.”

“Is here another technophobic among us?” Cable quirks, clicking her tongue against her palate, loudly. 

“Forensic is one of the fields where technology made the biggest leaps. Back when I worked for the NYPD, there were companied that even begged us to test their products. My lab had one of the first electronic noses of the country. My issues is the lack of specific regulation and the general disregard for the costumers’ privacy.”

“Still think you guys are both technophobic. Actually, I think…” Cable leans towards you guys, with the intention of mocking you furthermore. Her eyes are full light and joy: she loves you people, she loves doing what she does, and she is already loving this case, from the bottom of her heart. 

Before she could move on with the public pillory, Bull claps his hands together to get your collective attention back. “All right, kids, let’s get back to the case, shall we? As I was saying, the client is coming to pick us up….”


	12. 1.11 Teacher's Pet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t suffer from regression. Just because I don’t have a good relationship with my father, it doesn’t mean I’m looking for someone who’d put me at the front and center of their world.”

“Full disclosure? As a cop, I’d close her in jail and threw away the key. She didn’t just seduce one of her students, she basically took advantage.”

As you discuss the latest case, Marissa kindly shakes her head. “Unfortunately, age of consents in New York is seventeen, and Jordan is seventeen. Which is why the DA had to drop the charges. But at least the board fired and, and the State took away her teaching license.”

“She may be just seen years older than him, but on a psychological level, the difference is almost the double. Besides, recent studies indicate that, in young male, adolescence lasts well until their late twenties, in some cases the early thirties. She basically slept with a baby!”

Danny, listening to you guys arguing, simply shrugs. “In Texas you can get married at fourteen, doesn’t matter how old is your partner. You just need your parents’ consent.”

“Which Jordan doesn’t have, and anyway, just because something exists, doesn’t meant it’s right. My great-grandmother got married at fourteen to a man twenty years her senior, because he had seduced her, doesn’t mean it was right!”

“I think Danny is just trying to defend her relationship with a hot, sexy and charming Brit who happens to be way younger than her.” Benny chuckles as you roll your eyes at his childish statement.

“So, if it’s legal, what do we do? How do we prove that she caused him harm?” You ask, arms open. 

“Well, got to be honest, I’m not sure myself. But…” he clicks on the screen and chuckles. “I’d start with choosing all blind jurors. I mean, have you seen her in a bathing suit? No one could blame the kid for having wanted to sleep with her!”

You shake your head as you jokingly slaps him on the chest. 

Men. And they say that seventeen is being an adult….

“You know, maybe it’s just me, but I’m pretty sure that I saw you flinch when Dr. Strand took the stand.”

You slap the book shout, huffing, as Jason approaches you. He is smirking- but looking at you as he knew you (which he did) and knew each and every one of your secrets (which he probably does, too).

“I don’t suffer from regression. Just because I don’t have a good relationship with my father, it doesn’t mean I’m looking for someone who’d put me at the front and center of their world.”

With kind eyes, Jason sits right before you, rearranging his jacket. He taps with a finger on your joined knuckles, as to get your full attention. “That’s your problem. You should. You need someone who’d put you in the spotlight. See you as the center of his world. Make you feel like a rock star. Your dad and Noah were idiots- doesn’t mean you shouldn’t get to be happy.”

The breath dies in your throat, and you swallow. “Jase, Noah wasn’t…”

But he stops you before you could end the sentence- he has heard it all before, knows you all too well. You’ll defend Noah, take the blame for everything that wasn’t working in your marriage. 

“He wasn’t a saint and he couldn’t make you happy, but maybe, just maybe…” he smiles, and turns his head, chuckling as he looks at the team, reunited to celebrate the latest victory. “Maybe, out here in this beautiful, crazy world there’s a man who’d want nothing more than make you the happiest, luckiest girl in the world.”

You stand up and squeeze his shoulder. “You, my friend, are nothing but an old, romantic fool.”


	13. 1.12 Stockholme Syndrome

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> With an hand over your beating heart, you open your eyes. You are fine, you are well. You are back at TAC and it’s 2017 and not 2001.

One second, you were looking at the screens at TAC,witnessing one of Jason’s mock trials. The next one, you were on your knees, in a corner, in the dark. Surrounded by people, and yet, alone. 

Debris. Smoke. Fire.Part of a wall fell right before you. 

You can’t see. Can’t hear anything – except a tingling in your ears – like…. Something ringing. And the beat of your heart. It’s crazy, relentless. 

And your breathing. Your breathing is even worse.

You are probably five seconds away from having a panic attack. 

You close your eyes. Put an hand over your heart, lean with your back against the wall at your back. 

Breath in for 3. Hold for 3. Breath out for 3. 

Repeat. 

Repeat. 

Repeat. 

Again and again and again. 

Hot flashes run right before your closed eyes, all black and white and grey and red. It’s all red- there’s so much red that it’s almost scary. 

You’d like to forget, but you can’t. 

No one can. No one _should,_ point.

You’ve gone through night terrors. Panic attacks. Would sometimes stay awake for days at time. The therapist didn’t help too much – you didn’t really want to talk about it. She seemed nice enough, but she didn’t get that you weren’t the kind of person to just share. That you had too many walls. That you would open up eventually- but in due time.

(Not two processes are the same, after all.)

Jason, though…. He helped. When you wanted someone to listen to you, listening he did. When you wanted just a warm embrace, he’d be at your side, cuddling you petite frame. He had been your shoulder. Your companion in an everlasting grief that wasn’t just your own, but belonged to the whole city. The world. 

You know it’s different- and yet, it’s the same, all over again. 

White and grey and black and red all over again. 

You are back in time. Still a newbie. Young and innocent and naïve. And the city is falling right before your eyes as you do your best helping out the survivors. The firefighters. Everyone, actually.

You hear a scream, lift your eyes towards the burning sky. A human torch just jumped out of the building– falling at your feet. 

White and grey and black and red all over. 

Breath in for 3. Hold in for 3. Breath out for 3. 

Repeat. Repeat. Repeat.

With an hand over your beating heart, you open your eyes. You are fine, you are well. You are back at TAC and it’s 2017 and not 2001. 

You look around. Your coworkers- your friends – are fine. They are all standing. 

Benny’s at your side, one hand over your arm, squeezing – as to make sure you are well, that you are there, with them. He doesn’t need to ask you anything – you get it. So, you just squeeze his elbow in kind, nodding.

You are fine. You are well. You are alive. 

And then, a woman screams- and points a gun in your direction. 

It may be another kind of nightmare, but it’s still, nevertheless, a nightmare.


	14. 1.13 The Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Now, you got some other bad news for me? Some other client you want to bankrupt on principle?”

“Your client’s fidgety.” You throw a folder on Jason’s desk, and go to sit before him, ankles crossed over the glass surface. “By the way, that’s the DNA analysis for your client. The counterpart’s expert wasn’t lying. Anyone calls me on the stand, all I’ll be able to do will be confirm each and every word in their report.”

He sighs as he looks over the files. “Then, we shall not call you on the stand and make things worse.”

“Or, you could actually do the right thing and tell your aristocratic client that he can’t just refuse to acknowledge a kid just because he doesn’t fall on his standard of perfections. Also because I had to disclose my findings to the counterpart, as well, which means that they know that your client is a lying and cheating scumbag.”

He almost laughs, shaking his head. “You are having fun, just admit it already.”

“Yes, I’m having the time of my life.” You click with your tongue against your palate. “By the way, you got what I told you about your client being fidgety? Also, he keeps thumping with his feet, but, it’s kind of weird. Is he all right?”

Jason sighs. “I’m not sure, but thanks for asking. Now, you got some other bad news for me? Some other client you want to bankrupt on principle?” 

“Nah, I think I can wait for another couple of days to collect my pay.”


	15. 1.14 It's Classified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, I was wondering, have you been talking with Benny lately?”

“Hi. I was wondering, have you been talking with Benny lately?” When you open the door of your apartment and you find Jason there, hands in his pockets and a faraway, almost desperate look, you sigh, and, with one last glance at the hot cup in your hand, you decide to offer the hot beverage to him, as you walk back in. He thanks you with a nod, and sniffs. “Thank you very much, kind lady, but I guess I’d need something stronger.”

You walk back in, fill another cup and offer Jason the something stronger he asked for- a generous help of Cognac. “Antique Premier Cru. Almost $200 a bottle. Filled with notes of vanilla and spices. Strong enough for your palate, old friend?”

He sighs, looks at you like you were a child who didn’t understand her lesson – a bit jokingly – and he gets rid of the coffee, throwing the liquid into the sink. Then, he grabs the elaborated glass bottle out of your hands and pours himself a definitely unhealthy dose of liquid courage before throwing himself over your couch.

Sighing, you take the bottle out of his way. 

And decide that maybe, just maybe, you do need some more alcohol to handle Jason Bull right about now. 

“So, what happened with Benny this time?” You ask, standing on your feet in front of Bull, the cup still warm in your hands. 

Jason, suddenly, stands up, and run an hand through his short hair. He is livid, a vein is pulsing in his neck. 

He is stressed.

He is worried.

Maybe, just maybe… he is scared.

“What did he tell you?” Jason asks, and you see his hopeful look- and you hate having to break his heart. 

“He didn’t tell me anything – Jase, I may have known Benny for a long time, but… we are hardly friends. We are… coworkers. And for the longest time, the only thing we had in common was that we were both your friends. You remember? You used to joke about that. Your old best friend and your new best friend. Even if he had a problem with you… he’d never come to me.”

You stare at your feet, and you feel like crying. 

You are an adult. You are supposed to be able to move past childish infatuations.

And yet, it seems you can’t. 

“He says he doesn’t trust me because I don’t trust him and because I keep things from him. He doesn’t get that secrets have to be kept. I even told him about Sarah but it didn’t help. He just…. Walked away. Didn’t add his own two cents to the discussion! And you want to know the worst part? I think- I know! -he is keeping something from me!”

You simply shrug. “Maybe he is just opinionated. Or he is having a middle life crisis. I’d keep your eyes open- he starts dating a twenty something and buys himself a bike or a Ferrari, you’ve checked all the boxes.”

“You’re not funny.” Jason sighs, puffing. “Is this how it’s supposed to be? You know, parenting? Because I feel like a disappointed dad.”

You sit at Jason’s side, pat his knee. “He is opinionated, and has always had a strong moral code. Even if he is struggling or going through something, he’ll get around. Your friendship survived your divorce from his sister, it’s gonna survive this, whatever it is.”

He smiles at you, tired, forced. “Are we speaking from experience now? Am I really such a bad person?”

You shake your head, and then, lay your head over his shoulder. “No, you are just the kind of friend who does what he thinks it’s best for the others without saying- that’s all.”

He sighs, as you hold onto his arm, and the city falls asleep outside your apartment, and the dark gently embraces you both.


	16. 1.15 What's Your Number?

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Fun fact: I know a nice enough girl who took the test and scored a 3.5 on a scale from 1, where one is considered an emotionally stable human being, to 5, where they are fully-functional sociopaths.”

“You really think that the most successful real estate developer in the whole New York City is a sociopath?” Benny looks at the photo, hands in his pants, lifting an eyebrow. For once, he is doubting Bull- it doesn’t take a genius a figure it out – and the fact that you are currently going old school, with articles journals cut from actual journals and writing on a glass wall seems to make him even more dubious of your boss’ plan- whatever it is.

“Actually, only a minor percentage of convicted felons are fully-functional sociopaths. The majority of them is….” You consider your options, the best choice of words. “Hiding in plain sight? Most of them work for big-time law firms, international enterprises… enterprises actually look for them. Many companies use the test for theLenvenson Psychopathy Scale to assert who would be a better manager, or use the profiles of Serial Killers- they are in all kind of carriers nowadays.”

“Fun fact: I know a nice enough girl who took the test and scored a 3.5 on a scale from 1, where one is considered an emotionally stable human being, to 5, where they arefully-functional sociopaths.”

You roll your eyes at Bull. “Just because I’m short and I like green, it doesn’t mean I’m a sociopath. And anyway, that was on secondary sociopathy. I scored a 2.5 on primary sociopathy.”

“Have you ever told someone what they wanted to hear instead of what they needed to hear?”

“I Think it may be called being nice. And human.”

“No. It was what made you a good cop. And why you were wasted working in forensics. You’d been a real closer!”


	17. 1.16 Free Fall

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You do know you are not actually Liberty's parents, right?”

“Have you thought about Liberty, Bull? What she’ll think about us if we go against her?”

As you three walk inside the hangar of the skydiving company, Bull, walking quickly between you and Marissa, rolls his eyes. “ _When_ we go against her, you mean.”

You snort. “You do know you are not actually her parents, right?”

Marissa sighs, and even if you can’t see her, you just know she is clenching her teeth at you. “I just don’t want her to feel blindsided by us!”

You just shrug. “She is a smart woman, otherwise she wouldn’t have moved up the food chain so quickly. That’s work, she’ll get it. Besides, we are talking about an incident, and the Governor signed a waiver.”

As you get ready to look at the evidences reports,you chuckle. 

Working with Liberty has been fun. 

Working against her is going to be even more so.


	18. 1.17 Name Game

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Last night the appeals court overturned the sentence in the Hayden Watkins case. Apparently there was new DNA evidence. The man did nine years for a crime he didn’t commit and now I’m under investigation by the US attorney for prosecutorial misconduct.”

“Coffee for your thoughts?” Benny barely lifts his eyes from his still untouched sandwich as you join him at the table. He doesn’t even acknowledge the steamy cup of coffee from Starbucks- granted, it’s a Reserve Hazelnut Bianco Latte, more your thing than his, but, still, just the scent should have awoke something deep within him.

Like it was something awful, sighing, Benny unceremoniously moves that monstrosity of a sandwich aside, and you are somehow suddenly remembered of the time you had to process a crime scene inside a slaughterhouse, where , together with vial, an apparently mild-mannered gentleman liked to get rid of whoever had wronged society in his eyes.

(You became a vegetarian after that- year and years after, you still smell the fresh meat.)

He looks at the sandwich. He looks at you. He plays with his fingers. He pinches the bridge of his nose, eyes closed, and he sighs.

“Last night the appeals court overturned the sentence in the Hayden Watkins case. Apparently there was new DNA evidence.”

You shrug. “It was, what, almost ten years ago? Many cases have been overturned in the last few years. Forensic sciences evolve at the speed of light.”

“Still, he did nine years for a crime he didn’t commit.”

Silence falls between you two. Benny sighs again, heavily, his gaze fixed on the cup of latte before him. 

“And….” You open your arms wide, as to invite him to keep him talking. 

Bull’s been right. There’s something going on with Benny. He isn’t his usual self- the assertive lawyer you’ve come to appreciate in the years you’ve known him. There’s something holding him back- it has been there for some weeks now. 

Bull knew. 

And now, you know yourself, too. 

“I’m under investigation by the US attorney for prosecutorial misconduct.” 

_ Ah.  _ Now you get it. Every time a conviction is reversed, the whole case is reviewed – the DA’s office, the police investigation, everything. Everyone ends up under a microscope. 

Prosecutors included. 

You sigh, your palms joined, your lips tight. 

“Ok. That’s pretty bad, but, it’s not the end of the world. Happens all the time.” You huff. “April 2004\. A ten years girl call the Police, claiming his father is stabbing her mum. Place arrives, foundthe mother, stabbed to death, the safe open and empty, the husband covered in his wife’s blood and with the murder weapon in his hands. Six months later, he is found guilty. Flash-forward to 2012\. The husband asks for the DNA evidence to be fully analyzed, the judge accepts and guess what? On the floor there was the blood of another person. The girl, meanwhile, says she isn’t so sure of what she saw that night, claimed that maybe, just maybe, she was having nightmare because she had been looking at horror movies. Case is overthrown with prejudice and he walks out. Meanwhile, the Robbery-homicide detective who questioned the daughter falls under investigation because they accuse him of having forced her to remember things she had never seen,the DA for having known and having made sure she committed perjury and went away with it, and _my lab_ for not having disclose all the evidence. Which, by the way, was a complete lie: we couldn’t hide what we hadn’t analyzed because we didn’t have enough time and enough money.”

“And how did it go?”

“Oh, he ended up in prison, all right.” You sigh. “The guy had killed the intruder who was attacking his wife, then decided to finish the work. Poor bastard had been hidden inside a concrete wall for over eight years. Of course, in the meantime, we had all gotten suspended _and_ sued for criminal misconduct and stalking. We were all cleared in the end, but my boss decided to leave anyway. Said she didn’t want to be part of a Force who didn’t trust her.”

He just nods. And he keeps quiet, in complete silence. “Benny, have you told Bull yet?”

He shakes his head. “I just, I don’t want to bother him with my little problem.” 

For a second, you’d want to put your hands over his, handle onto him. Be his anchor. But then, you decided it’s not your place. 

“Benny, just because you didn’t do anything doesn’t mean you shouldn’t worry. Bull’s not just your boss- he is your friend. You need to tell him.”

He suddenly stands up, and looks at you, angry. “I’ll tell him when I’ll tell him, just be careful not to spill your guts to you boyfriend, uh?”

Two minutes ago, you wanted to console him, be there for him. Now, you’d slap him, as strongly as you could. 

But you don’t. He is hurt. He doesn’t really mean that. He just needs someone to unload all that hurt and frustration on, and you are an easy target- you always end up forgiving people, after all.

Still, it doesn’t mean that’d you cry, if you were a little less strong.


	19. 1.18 Dress To Kill

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You don’t really have your eyes set on her, right?”

“You don’t really have your eyes set on  
her, right?” You chuckle as you and Bull look at the latest  
addiction to TAC- Jason’s new personal assistant, the former  
29 years old model.  
Your friend lifts an eyebrow, quizzical, and slightly shakes his head.  
“I thought you didn’t like Diana.”  
You just shrug. “You could do worse than that. Of course, I  
stand by the fact that you’ll never, ever get anyone as good  
as Izzie. Still, better Diana than some of the people who work in the  
fashion world.  
“If I tell Will to send you a free pair of his brand new  
stiletto heels, will you be nicer, woman with an heart of  
ice?”  
You shake your head, chuckling. “Not gonna make any promise,  
Boss Man!”


	20. 1.19 Bring It On

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I don’t know, evidence sounds pretty circumstantial to me? Prints on his things, his DNA on his girlfriend… a good attorney could make the jury look the other way.”

“Bull, what the hell is Caffrey talking about?” Benny clenches Bull’s shoulder, as hard as he can, hoping that it would pass the message that, whatever is going on, he doesn’t like it. Neither does the rest of the team, apparently. Until a moment before, you were all playing pool, a minute alter, you learn that one of the most popular defense attorney out there, Jules Caffrey, has _already_ hired Bull. 

And, if Jason’s expression is of any help… he just found out as well. 

“Ouch. Smart man. He’s screaming that he had already hired you right before the whole country, so that when he’ll call you’ll have to accept the case.”

Jason sighs. “He isn’t going to call. He is going to wait for us at his place. Trust me, I know the type- and I know _him.”_

“Well…” You shrug. “That ought to be interesting. He a popular middle aged lawyer with tree ex-wives, a murdered twenty-something girlfriend who lived under the spotlight. Press’s gonna love it.” You chuckle. 

“I saw the DA’s press conference- they got fingerprints, DNA, and an eye witness. A voice mail.” You kind of feel for Marissa- she is looking at Bull as she was begging him to not accept the case. Move on. She doesn’t like losing, and in her eyes, Caffrey is already behind bars. 

“I don’t know, evidence sounds pretty circumstantial to me? Prints on his things, his DNA on his girlfriend… a good attorney could make the jury look the other way.”

Bull, instead of listening to what you guys are saying, looks straight at the screen- at the man himself. He takes off his glasses and chuckles. 

“Well, let’s see if we got ourselves a new client, shall we?”


	21. 1.20 Make Me

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have I ever told you that I met Bull for the first time while we were both taking an anthropology class?”

“You are a scientist, and yet you… believe in hypnotism?” 

You puff and bite the inside of your cheek at Marissa’s statement, because, in truth, it’s not so simple- things rarely are, after all. 

“Have I ever told you that I met Bull for the first time while we were both taking an anthropology class?” You smile a little at the memory.

Chunk lifts an eyebrow, smirking at you. “All right, you look younger than your age. What does it have to do with the case?”

You chuckle, tilting your head to the side. “The mind can be easily manipulated, and I’m not talking about magic shows. If the subject is vulnerable, or there are the right conditions, someone with the right know-how can make them do pretty much everything. There’s a trigger, a color, a word, anything…. There are tribes in the Amazonian Rainforest that use psycho-hallucinatory substances found in nature to generate an altered state of consciousness. If I could check Trey’s Tox-Screen, I could see what they went looking for, or if there was something odd.”

Bull just nods. “You do that, forensic girl. Meanwhile, we will go looking for our real culprit, the hypnotist!”


	22. 1.21 How To Dodge A Bullet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jase, you saw what they pulled- an inspector general from the DOJ, the head of the Federal Investigation Unit and a dozen FBI agents? That’s not a misdemeanor."

“Chunk’s gotten those for you. “ You handle Jason’s his tie as, inside the court, you wait for Benny to be escorted back in, the breath dead in your throat, your heart doing something crazy- sometimes it’s beating like crazy, sometimes you feel like it’s not beating at all. 

“I talked to one of the FBI guys while they were processing Benny. He seems certain they are going to charge him with a misdemeanor.”

You aren’t certain he believes it- you certainly don’t. You got closer and closer, so close he can hear you whisper. “Jase, you saw what they pull- an inspector general from the DOJ, the head of the Federal Investigation Unit _and_ a dozen FBI agents? That’s not a misdemeanor. And even if it was…”

He nods. “No jail time, but, he would still risk being disbarred. Best case scenario, he gets suspended for a few months. Maybe a couple of years.”

“Mark my words, Jase- this will not go the way you are planning. There’s something off about this whole thing. It’s going to get ugly before it gets better.”

“Yeah, I hear you.” He sighs as you both salute with a nod of your head Benny, and in an heartbeat, you go to sit next to Marissa.

As the Judge enters, she holds your hands, and you both wonder if your world is going to change.

“Does any of you think Benny’s doing a mistake?” Chunk ask you guys as you look at the trial live on the screens at TAC.

Marissa just holds her breath. You shake your head.

“I’ve known Benny for most of my adult lives. And for many of those years, we’ve been friends. _He is_ my friend, and I’m scared for him. But, as much as I know that part of me would be…” you bite your lips, inhale. “As much as I know I would have felt better knowing that it was over, I know him. I know the kind of man he is. He would have never planted that evidence. And he has character. He just can’t ask pardon for something he hasn’t done.”

“Besides, it would open all kinds of door if he admitted he did it.” Danny recites. “An ADA who planted evidence? They’d be reopening all of his cases, and who knows how many people would get out with the benefit of doubt.”

“So, Bull and I are gonna have drinks. Want to join in?” Benny asks you as you are putting away some documents, late at night. Most of the others are already gone, or on their way out, and almost all the lights have been turned off- the few that are on cast a dim light, almost sheer, on the ambience, making it almost…. Ghostly. 

Folders in hands, you look for a minute at Benny, leaning against the doorframe.You sit on your desk, smiling at him- a bit sad, a bit regretful. 

“I think I’ll take a raincheck on this one. You and Bull need your time alone. _And_ I’ve been asked by my partners a quarterly report on all the cases we’ve followed for you guys. Apparently I spent way too much time here and too little in my _real_ office.”

Hands in his pockets, he walks towards you, his mouth a straight line. He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, and then, when you are about to stand up and leave, he speaks. 

“I’m sorry,” he starts. “I’ve been an ass, told you things I didn’t have any right to, and… I’m just sorry.”

“Graceful embrace.” You deadpan. “Or maybe a Springtime kiss.”

“What?” He grins, lifting a quizzical eyebrow, taking one step closer to you as to give you said embrace, but, shaking your head and smiling, you stop him, keeping him at distance, your palm over his heart. He doesn’t embrace you, and yet, this is the most intimate you’ve been with anyone in a long time, and for a fraction of second, you wonder if, instead, he’ll go for a kiss.

“White Hydrangea and roses, or lavender roses, yellow lilies, purple stock and this tiny yellow and violet flowers that are absolutely to die for.”

“Flowers. You want flowers.”

You tsk-tsk him. “Nope. I want my _favorite_ bouquet from my favorite florist in the city, Ditmars over in Astoria. Premium size, from 110 $. They also have a Zen Artistry. I’m sure Nunnelly will love it.”

“Flowers, uh?” He chuckles, and you nod. 

“Best way to a woman’s pardon is through flowers.”

He walks backward to the door, smiling. “I’ll keep that in mind!”


	23. 1.22 Dirty Little Secrets

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “We are professionals for hire. We don’t always get to choose who hires us!”

“Am I sensing some discord in the room here?” As soon as he gives the news of their newest client- and the reason behind their hiring- half the team leaves the room, not bothering to open their mouths to voice their discomfort. 

Chunk, on the other end – still young, still new, still optimistic and a bit naïve – he does tell everything he thinks. That it’s wrong. That they should help get the date. Found out who, just in their neighborhood, caused an explosion. 

“We are professionals for hire. We don’t always get to choose who hires us!”

You laugh, once, bitter. “Which means you didn’t choose this client. Let me guess, the pretty Cleaner did?”

“I never said that. Maybe I’m in it because I think Americans should be entitled to cyber privacy!”

You lift an eyebrow. “Yeah- and maybe tomorrow morning I’ll wake up ten years younger, and one feet taller, but, oddly enough, I don’t think it will happen.”

He grunts, takes off his glasses. “All right, lead counsel is J.P. Connelly. Anyone has something to say about that?”

You smirk, not bothering with an answer. 

Sometimes, just sometimes, Jason is way too easy to read.


	24. 1.23 Benevolent Deception

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She saved Benny, and I thought that you’d be more thankful with her.” He deadpans in your face, his voice but a whisper.   
> “Don’t -don’t bring Benny into this.”

“We need to talk.” When Jason comes back from talking with J.P. Nunnelly, you wait for him, your arms crossed, and a funeral expression painted on your features. You look serious, and a bit…ashamed. And angry. “Jase, I just can’t be part of any if this. I’ve been a cop my whole adult life. I’ll always bleed blue. I’m not going to help a drug trader getting off.”

He sighs, pinches the bridge of his nose. “His sister didn’t do anything. We all know it.”

“She thinks that what she can’t see won’t hurt her, but it’s not how it works.” You shake your head, sighing. “You want to defend innocent mothers? There’s plenty where we come from.”

“You are scared.” He rolls his eyes. “Listen, I get it, but…”

“This has nothing to do with fear! I was with the Police, Jase. I lived in New York on 9/11. I _was_ at World Trade Center that day. Trust me, fear has nothing to do with this. _this_ has everything to do with doing the right thing for the right reason. If you want me to help, you’ll have to tell me the whole truth, or I swear to God, I’ll be out of that door quicker than light speed.” 

He sighs. 

Again. 

And has the decency of looking ashamed. And guilty. 

“If she win, J.P. has been promised by her partners that they’ll let her leave and bring along her clients.” 

You’d laugh- the kind of cynical, evil laughter people doesn’t really like. If you didn’t feel like hissing at the man before you. You know, you’ve always known, that Jason is self-centered, that he has his own vision, but this is going way beyond that. “You got to be kidding me. You are putting your team- your _friends_ at risk- for what, a woman? A roll in the hey?”

“She saved Benny, and I thought that you’d be more thankful with her.” He deadpans in your face, his voice but a whisper. 

“Don’t.” You hiss at clenched teeth. “Don’t bring Benny into this.”

“Why, because you’ve got still the hots for him and can’t get over this childish crush of yours for him? You know that this will never go nowhere, right?”

You don’t even reply to him. your eyes are burning with unshed tears, and a sob dies in your throat, menacing to suffocate you. Your chest hurts, and yet…yet, you don’t say a word. There’s no answer to Jason’s comment. It was too low. Too….evil. Mean. You didn’t think he would have dared to bring it up, use your weaknesses against you, and yet… he did. 

And it hurt. 

You just slap him across the face, as hard as you could, and then, you are out of the door, on your way to New York. 

If you’ll never hear from him ever again, you’ll never feel better.


	25. 2.1 School For Scandal

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I guess I should check the temperature in Hell. It’s probably freezing right about now.”

“I need my forensic expert, Marissa, and yet I don’t see her here. Why is that?”

As they sit across the conference table, Marissa bites her lips. “I fear she may not be answering our calls.”

“Bull. What did you do her?” Benny asks, stern and right on point, tip-tapping his fingers on the table. 

“Nothing! Why do you assume I did something?”

“I don’t know. Probably because you went to talk and when she came back, she managed to slam a sliding door and you had an hand imprint on your face?” Bull simply rolls his eyes, he doesn’t even bother with an actual answer. “Want me to call her? Tell her that you need her here?”

“She is still talking with you? Why did I just hear this?”

The lawyer simply shrugs, yet, he grins. “She once told me that the way to her heart was through a springtime kiss and I obliged. Which means that yes, she is still talking with me.”

“I can’t wait for spring to kiss her! I need her right here right now… and anyway, what do I hear about you kissing my friend?” 

“It’s a bouquet, Bull. One of the fanciest bouquet in town.”

He sighs, rubbing the bridge of his nose. “Fine. Get me one of those fancy bouquets, and I’ll go begging on my knees for forgiveness. Even if I didn’t do anything wrong.”

“I guess I should check the temperature in Hell. It’s probably freezing right about now.”

You smirk as you eye Jason, standing right before your open door, one arm full of flowers, the other with an evidence box. 

“Yes, I know I’ve been a… difficult boss, and… an awful friend, which is, I guess, what got you mad. I’m sorry.”

You lean against the doorframe, arms crossed, and wait for him to keep on. He said he was sorry- but that’s not enough. 

“You have been my best friend for over half of my life. I never cut you off because you called me on- pardon my pun- my bullshit. But the moment I tell you I don’t like your client you treat me like… like something underneath your shoes? It’s not ok, Jason. You used my weaknesses against me- to _hurt_ me. You’ve been mean and childish and immature, all because I dared to disagree with the great and almighty Jason Bull.”

He doesn’t say a word. He has the decency to keep quiet, and look at his feet. 

You huff, grab the flowers and usher him inside.“So, what do you want me to check for you?”

He goes to sit on your couch – old brown leather, filled with histories and memories- and looks around. Your place is nothing like his- it’s intimate, familiar, cozy, lived-in even if you are barely home.

_ It’s a waste,  _ he thinks, _that she doesn’t have anyone to come back home to._

You grab the folder and give a quick look, eyeing appreciatively the name on top of it- an important name, a big case – and you quickly read through the major highlights. 

“Uh. There are no fingerprints on the revolver. And yet, she fired it. Three times.” You quickly check through the pages, just to make sure- her fingertips are, indeed, on file. “Frankly, it’s odd, but that’s not oddest thing here.”

“Oh?” He asks, curious. 

“Yeah. I like these blood spatters. Totally inconsistent with being stabbed. I mean, you get stabbed, what do you do? You stand still and tall? I don’t think so. These spatters aren’t consistent with someone who runs for their life. It’s like… they were walking. Calmly. And, oh my, how lucky she is, every stab wounds inches from a deadly site! Jason, trust me, this woman is guiltier than sin!”

Lazily, he scratches the back of his neck. “I still got just eleven jurors. One out of twelve is, guess what, from Callisto. And who do you think is the defense attorney?”

You just chuckle. “Oh, Jase, trust me. Once we’ll be done with her, this pretty bird will sing like there was no tomorrow and you’ll have all twelve jurors on your side, no matter what.”


	26. 2.2 Already Gone

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Just so you know, you are disrupting my concentration.”   
> “And listening to hard rock doesn’t?”  
> “It’s My Immortal by The Evanescence, Benny. It hardly qualifies as hard rock.”

You ran the samples of the lethal cocktail administered by young Adam to his dying girlfriend in the centrifuge, while you put some tissue samples under the microscope. The lights are already dimmed in your lab – the shop you and some of your coworkers set up a couple of years ago, and that does most of Bull’s re-analyzing of physical evidence – and you listening to music in your headphones, and either taking notes on a yellowy pad, filled with flying doddles or tapping on in with your pen, your trust-worthy Mont Blanc. 

“Just so you know, you are disrupting my concentration.” You tap on your headphones and take them off, and smirk at Benny, sat on the other side of your desk clearly annoyed- if with you or Jason, you aren’t sure. 

“And listening to hard rock doesn’t?”

“It’s _My Immortal_ by The Evanescence, Benny. It hardly qualifies as hard rock.” You sigh, crossing your arms over the top of your desk. “So, what can I help you and Bull with?”

He stares at you for what seems the longest time, then, “Why do you think I’m here because I need something? Maybe I’m just here because I find your company quite gratifying.”

You roll your eyes. And you don’t even try to hide it. “Just so you know, I’m not going to play third wheel between you and Jason because you are arguing about the case.”

“Why would you think that I’m…” he starts, but your stern gaze stops him. 

“Benny, don’t insult my intelligence and don’t pretend we are friends, because if it’s not about work or a problem with Bull, you’ve never, ever sought me out just for the fun of it. And that’s ok. Only, don’t pretend it’s any different. It’d be just disrespectful.”

He smiles a little. “Autumn’s not a good time for a springtime kiss, uh?” he jokes, and you smile, shrugging.

“Orange roses and gerberas will be fine if you want to make peace. Anyway, where were we?”

He sighs. “We were at the point where I talk with you as a fellow practicing Catholic about the fact that I don’t think I can handle this case. Because either he killed his girlfriend, or she killed herself, and committed a mortal sin. And Bull thinks I should be able to divide the lawyer from the Catholic, and that, apparently, we don’t care any longer about the fact that our client- which Bull choose to defend on his own accord – di something very wrong.”

“It’s Bull, Benny- he’s always been for the grey.” You try to dismiss the whole thing, waving your hands a bit in the air.

“Yeah, well, Bull is apparently also the kind of man who asks me what kind of God I pray to, if my God wants for a kid to go to jail for killing his girlfriend.”

“Ah.” Oh, Jason’s really in trouble if he asked Benny that. He is a good Catholic, and just like you, he doesn’t appreciate having his faith questioned on a personal level. You know all too well the feeling- with Benny, it’s about suicide, with you, it was the choice to stay married despite the hardship of life with Noah.

You both stay in silence, and pick at your fingernails as Benny stares at the wall, an hand on his forehead. You don’t even hear the sound of the centrifuge, alerting you that the job’s done. 

“I don’t know what to think. On one hand, he did kill her, but on the other… instead of letting her live in peace her last few months, her family wanted for her to be… a vegetable. No memory, no language, unable to _feel_ the world. Stripped of everything that made her human.” You suddenly say. “Maybe, the only thing Adam is guilty of is being 18, and loving Emily too much to see her suffer against her will. Is it really worth throwing his life away?”

He covers your hand with his, and smiles, sad. “What you just said, it’s really a thing of beauty.”

The breath dies in your throat as your eyes lock, and you’d want to say something, do something, but you can’t, because with that, he’s gone.


	27. 2.3 A Business Of Favors

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did the judge really said the whole trial had been a waste of time and resources?"

“Did the judge really said the whole trial had been awaste of time and resources and that she wanted to pronounce all the kids not guilty, on her own?”

You sit on the edge of Bull’s desk, your legs crossed, dangling from the side. 

“Yep. Instead, we got all fourteen kids found guilty, on different degrees.” He chuckles, hands crossed over his belly as he faces you. “Sorry I got mad because you couldn’t find any new evidence. I wasn’t your fault.” 

“Yeah, I’m very proud of me. I’ve been very mature- you’ve been an ass and I haven’t slapped you. That’s very adult of me.”You run your fingers through his hair, messing them up. “Still, good job. You just made me very proud, and gave justice and closure to a grieving mother. All in a day’s work.”


	28. 2.4 The Illusion Of Control

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, people will start talking, Benny- it’s the third time in as many weeks you’ve come here bearing gifts.”

“Coffee for your thoughts kind lady?” You sit on your desk, a folder in your hands, when Benny steps in offering you coffee, and leans against your desk, at your side, sipping his hot beverage.

You chuckle sipping your coffee, enjoying the taste. “You know, people will start talking- it’s the third time in as many weeks you’ve come here bearing gifts.”

“Pretty sure you lectured me about the fact that I just came here when I needed something, so I thought I would try to be a better friend.” He chuckles, sending you one of his dazzling smiles. “If I lose my job I can come working for you, right? Because I think we may not be able to win this one, even if our closing argument was to die for.” 

“Jason’s been acting a tiny bit crazy, uh?” 

He nods. “He wanted to _invent_ somethingbad about a former client. Gateman almost ripped his head off. Could have done that, too – he is, like, a giant. A giant shoes salesman with a bad sale record despite a killing pitch.”

“Gateman? As in, Ronald Gateman? God, Jason was just _obsessed_ with him back in college. He, like, idolized this guy like it was some kind of celebrity. He kept talking about the time this guy made a serial killer cry on the stand. Even had the paper with the drawing of that moment over his headboard like I have a hand-stitched Madonna.”

“Truth is, I told Bull we’d have been all right, but I’mnot so sure any longer. And… Bull is very mad. With Amaya. And with me and Gateman.”

You snort. “Oh, please. You and Bull have known each other for over a decade. What could you have done to make _him_ mad? I mean, it’s usually the other way around…”

“I agreed with Gateman when he tried to question Marissa about when her junkie birth mother came back into the picture and made sure that her kid didn’t get adopted by a good and decent family.”

“Ouch.” You sigh, looking in front of you. “Must have been bad, still, kind of get it, extreme measures and all. I wouldn’t have liked it, had it been me, but, still…”

“Bull interrupted Gateman. _And_ the judge. Again, and again and again. So much so she found him in contempt.”

You turn to look at Benny, your eyes as huge as saucer. “ _Jason’s in jail?!”_ You all but shriek, and all the lawyer does is chuckling, a bit evilly. 

“I’m supposed to go and bail him out later this morning before going to court- jury’s already finished. Thought that spending the night in jail would have done him some good. given him some clarity.”

You cover his hands with yours. “I’m going to come to court.”

“You don’t have to.”

You smile kindly at him, leaning your head over his shoulder. “Wasn’t really asking.”


	29. 2.5 Play The Hand You're Dealt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You know, I don’t think you really like this guy.” Cable affirms, rather sure.  
> “No, I don’t. He’s been manipulating Jason for years and Jason allows him to, because all he sees is the guy we went to school with and who saved his ass."

“He’s Makya Benally, he was Jason’s roommate freshman year, born and raised on the Nawakwa Reservation. Guys got into some little troubles and he was asked to kindly leave, and that’s when he made his way to Vegas, working as a card dealer and playing cards until he was banned from every casino in the state which prompted him to return to the reservation. His rap sheets include drunk and disorderly conduct, assault, illegal gambling.”

Joined hands and nervous fingers, you sigh as you finish your presentation before the guys. 

“And that was your friend?” Chunk asks you, lifting an eyebrow, almost daring as to say something more- talk about the person and not just the résumé.

“Not really- keep in mind that I was a few years behind Bull in college, so Mack was _his_ friend. We crossed paths a few times, but, I don’t think I was his kind of person. What I know I know through Bull and mostly the rumor mill: apparently, Freshman year, Mack got expelled for, guess what, illegal gambling. He and Bull were good at reading people, but mostly… at playing cards. They got this underground poker game going, and, uh, they were making big money. Only then the University got word of it and shut it down. Bull was still involved, but Mack took the fall for the whole thing and got expelled. Jason never really forgave himself, and Mack has been making sure to remind him that he is now a doctor just because of his own sacrifice on a regular basis.”

“You know, I don’t think you really like this guy.” Cable affirms, rather sure.

“No, I don’t. He’s been manipulating Jason with this… _guilt_ for years and Jason allows him to, because all he sees is the guy we went to school with and who saved his ass. Me?” You indicate the screen with Mack’s rap-sheet at your back. “ I see the _man_ who borrows money and doesn’t pay back, who drives under the influence and always too fast, who curses at kids on Halloween. And you want to know the best part? Jason shouldn’t even feel guilty to begin with. Mack was already with one foot out of College anyway – in two months, he hadn’t showed his face up in class just once. Does he strike as a murderer? Hell no. But he isn’t the good friend Jason pictures him to be. Mark my word: he is trouble with a capital t.”


	30. 2.6 The Exception To The Rule

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “If I were on that jury, I’d go all Erin Brockovich on that company.”

“If I were on that jury, I’d go all Erin Brockovich on that company.”

You smile as you look at Cable. “Technically, Erin Brockovich was more like us- she worked for the plaintiffs, she wasn’t on the jury. Also, I’m pretty sure you dress way more modestly than her.”

“Judging a book from a cover? Didn’t really expect that from you.” Benny chuckles, and you smirk.

“Oh, trust me, if I were to judge a book from its cover, I wouldn’t be here. I mean, you should have seen Bull back in college. He was a complete jerk and looked like what my stepmom used to call a “ _beglets”.”_

“A what?!” Chunk asks.

“A beglets, a… you know, a runaway, only, it’s in Russian. My stepmom – well, stepmom number one – came from Rostov. When she first met Bull, she defined him a runaway. He had crinkled cloths, longish hair, a three-days beard, an attitude, he was at College but 9 times out of 10, it looked like he didn’t really feel like studying at all. And he absolutely _loathed_ all things psychology.” 

“Bull. That Bull hated psychology?”

“Yep. Said it was for losers. I don’t think he really knew what he wanted to do with his life back then, actually. I mean, I’m pretty sure he knew he didn’t really have to actually work for a living to begin with and he was going with that. College was more an excuse to leave town and be on his own and do as he wanted than anything else.”

“Why, you always knew what you wanted to do with your life?” Benny asks you, chuckling. He is pretty interested in the subject, too- he was at good with the law, always has been, but he has always had someone else doing the hard choices for him.

“I’ve always wanted to be a scientist. Uncover the hidden truth. Help people out. My brother served, my sisters are married with cops… it’s our deal. We help people and serve the Country. Always have and always will.”


	31. 2.7 No Good Deed

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “And yes, My bridesmaid dress was that bad- it had ruffles, and sating, and puff, and it looked like a bad scene from a Cinderella on acid.”

“I hate this thing.” You are almost vomiting when you have to walk pass the entrance of the mayoral annual found riser and you give your name. You are actually clenching your teeth, uncomfortable in the long burgundy dress you’ve chosen for the occasion- not that you had much of a choice, given the dress code.

At your side, Bull offers you his arm and chuckles. “I don’t get it. Why coming if you hate it so much? By the way, has anyone complimented you already? You scrubbed up nicely.”

You roll your eyes. “I come here for the same reason you do, to keep City Hall in my good graces. God knows when they could need my lab’s extremely well paid help with a problem.” You smirk. “And thank you for your attempt at a compliment, although it was kind of lame, and, to answer your question, no one complimented me yet - not many men around nowadays.”

As you walk towards your table, Bull already equipped with a glass of champagne, your “partner” eyes you with a lifted eyebrow. “Well, I know a man who had never missed once to compliment you whenever you wore a dress in the past- even when you were a bridesmaid at my wedding.”

You gently shove him away as you grimace. “Uh. Thank you. Now I know what I will be having nightmares about this night.”

He dares to giggles as you sat down, ready for the auction and the “dinner” to begin. “Was it really that bad? I mean, Benny did compliment you.”

“Benny complimented me because he is a nice human being, but…” You stop yourself, deciding to gloss over the little detail of your then-husband practically dying laughing because of the horror you were forced to wear. “And yes, it was _that bad_ \- it had ruffles, and sating, and puff, and it looked like a bad scene from a Cinderella on acid.”

He sinkers as he lifts his pallet to bid. “Well, then, Benny must really like you, to find you beautiful with that nightmare on.”


	32. 2.8 The Devil, The Detail

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think both you kids know that I don’t like to lose. So, please, don’t look at me like I did something awful, or I didn’t say what you all were thinking.”

“You’ve been… pretty savage out there, uh?” Benny tries to be the middle-man, to be considerate and calm, butit has never been you – not when it was about you, and the people in your life. In the field, in a lab, you were good- top of your class, cold, collected, but here? You are seeing red- and you aren’t scared of showing Bull what you just think of him. 

“That’s being nice. He is being an ass, point.” You state, hard.

“I think both you kids know that I don’t like to lose.” He simply answer you, like it was everyday business. “So, please, don’t look at me like I did something awful, or I didn’t say what you all were thinking.”

“No, no, don’t put this on us- you didn’t exactly helped with the jury, all right?” Benny inhales, calm, but cold. “You picked people who only trust big companies, and that’s an hell of a mountain to climb when you are trying to prove corporate malfeasance.”

“And you don’t have your head in the game. You are getting obsessed with that woman. You are playing her game because you want to win with her rules.” You almost clench your teeth. “But you aren’t, and you are taking it on us- on Cable and on a guy who can’t even defend himself because he is _dead,_ Jason. And you don’t even care because every time you see a pretty woman who also happens to be smart and wants to beat you? You lose it.”

“Have you two finished playing the knights in shining armor? Telling me how I’m the bad guy? The hero and the failed super cop – you really are quite the pair. ”

You are so enraged with Bull- and distraught – that you almost feel like your whole was set on fire. You’d hit him, and you’d probably live to not care about the consequences – pretty sure you’d be in the right. 

You didn’t leave the Force because you weren’t up for it. You were a good cop. You had mentions, you have proof of that. It was walking into the same room where people pities you that drove you away. He knows that – always did – and yet, when he goes into this mindset, when he only sees his finish line and he stops caring about the others… he forgets. Or maybe he just doesn’t care. You’ve never really gotten it. 

Without saying another word- it would be pointless, with Jason in such a state – you leave the room, and march towards the exit, grabbing with clenched teeth and an almost marching step your purse on the way out – only Chunk seems to be wanting to say something, but Marissa quickly shakes her head no and stops him before he could actually open his mouth and make it somehow worse. 

Benny catches up with you in the elevator, as you lean with your back against the cold, metallic surface and are inhaling and exhaling, trying to calm yourself down enough to not say something you’d regret; he mimics your position, standing right before you.

“He cares. Let’s say that he wants to win because he knows right from wrong and he cares.” Benny says, but he doesn’t seem to convinced.

You sigh, looking at a point right over Benny’s right shoulder,the blurring red numbers diminishing as the elevators goes down. “Pretty sure that he wants to win because he hates losing. And because he likes that woman in a totally unprofessional and primordial way.”

Benny smirks, arching an eyebrow. “You think it’s because of sex?”

“Don’t take it bad, but yes. He is a man. Somehow, it’s _always_ about sex.”


	33. 2.9 Thanksgiving

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "You haven’t lived until you’ve had my grandmother’s pasteles….”   
> “That’s just because you’ve never tried my stepmom’s Pirozky. They are these wonderful cushiony buns filled with mashed potatoes and cabbage with spices..."

“This time, tomorrow, I’ll be on a beach in Florida, just me and a Margarita.” Marissa chuckles as you all gather around a table eating cupcakes. 

“Florida seems to be apretty popular destination this year, as I’m going there, too.” You say, but you are actually grimacing a little as you lick a tear of sugar from your right index. “Only, instead of a beach, my whole family will be crumbled in my brother’s apartment in Miami – my siblings with their significant others and their kids. And me. The childless widow. Which means that anyone will feel like playing matchmaker and introduce me to potential candidates to the figure of husband number two. At least my stepmom will be there. Probably. She is the greatest. And she always takes my side. Even now that I’m getting grey.”

“Yeah, that’s why I’m staying in New York this year. I’m not going to set myself up for heartache.”Cable chuckles, looking at you like you were crazy. 

“Young girl, you’ll break your parents’ hearts…” Benny chastises her. “I’m flying to Dallas, we’re flying the Puerto Rican side of my family in.”

“I don’t know why, but, somehow, your family’s Thanksgiving dinner seems nicer than my family’s Thanksgiving dinner.” 

“Oh, yes, it’s the best dinner in the world. You haven’t lived until you’ve had my grandmother’s pasteles….” 

“That’s just because you’ve never tried my stepmom’s Pirozky. They are these wonderful cushiony buns filled with mashed potatoes and cabbage with spices. Oh, and her Buche de Noel… that’s to die for! Last time she did it, she decorated it with this tiny sugary figurines shaped like cartoonish turkeys. I’d get any emotional harassment from my siblings if it meant a bit of that cake. Of course, the perfect weather is a bonus, but, still… marrying that woman was the best thing that my dad ever did, cross over my heart.”

“Just come to Georgia and try my cooking. My best friend and I, we fry up a turkey and I prepare my sweet potato pie.”


	34. 2.10 Home For The Holidays

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You were right. I really didn’t want to know where you found me a Santa costume this late.”

“Just out of curiosity, where did you find me a Santa costume on Christmas’s eve?”

“Oh, trust me, you really don’t want to know.” You chuckle, staying on your toes, hands joined at your back, when Jason enters into your apartment, still dressed as Santa.

You lift an eyebrow as he lounges on your couch in the most inelegant way, the opposite picture of what he tries to transmit every time he sees a client- especially a rich one. 

He puffs, and you sniggle up on your sleeve as you shake your head and make your way into your tiny kitchen. “You know, my friend, I think you are not quite the Grinch you pretend to be!” You yell over your espresso machine.

“What are you doing over there?” He yells, and you don’t answer- you just make your way to him after a few minutes, two glasses in hand. “Again, what did you do over there?” he asks as he accepts your offer, eyeing it a bit suspiciously- especially given the presence of a spoon.

You sit down at his side, and immediately get a spoonful of threat in your mouth, as Jason keeps looking at you with a lifted eyebrow. “Well?” he asks, a but amused. 

You roll your eyes. “It’s just a Whiskey and Bailey’s affogato- vanilla ice cream, whiskey, Bailey and coffee.” This time, it’s his turn to be amused. “C’mon, don’t look at me like that. It’s Christmas, and we are both alone. I’m not dating anyone, you are not dating anyone, you don’t speak with your family, I’ve seen enough of mine at Thanksgiving and _you_ are wearing a Santa costume from a cadaver… ‘tis the season to be miserable together and eat unnecessary, over-sweetened, highly-alcoholic threats.”

He sighs. “You were right. I really didn’t want to know where you found me a Santa costume this late.” He cheers, lifting his glass, mimicked by you. “To us. And to better holidays the next year around.”

You smile, and eat a spoonful of ice cream, the cold and hot threat melting in your mouth as you look at the snow falling over your beloved city.


	35. 2.11 Survival Instinct

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Throwing paper balls at the trash can? Really mature.”

When you try to enter Bull’s office a paper ball hits you square in the head. “Throwing paper balls at the trash can? Really mature.” You snort.

Jason collapses on his chair, and looks at the ceiling, sighing. “Jury’s been out three days. You know as well as I do what it means. Plus, you’ve seen the mirror jurors- we’ve got one we can’t get.”

“Mistrial.” You bite your lips, as you lean against the doorframe. “And that poor girl is going to stay in jail until we haven’t finished doing this all over again.”

He nods. “That’s if she is proven innocent. If we have another trial and she is found guilty… she gets 25. Minimum.” 

“And meanwhile, she doesn’t get the help she needs. There’s a part of her that believes that he is somehow a decent human being and that they are deeply in love, even if he threw her to the wolves.”

He nods, not knowing what else to add, really. 

And that’s when his phone, finally, rings. 


	36. 2.12 Grey Areas

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Look, I know I’m asking a lot, but I need you to promise me you aren’t going to spill it. Can you do that? Keep it from Benny?”

“Why are we all here at half past six in the morning, on a Saturday?” You ask as you join Cable, Marissa, Danny and Cable at a table. “And where the hell is the man in charge?”

“Well, that, ladies and gentleman, is the million dollar question.” Marissa sighs. 

“Benny’s with Bull?”

“No, he wasn’t invited to this particular meeting.” Bull exhales as he makes his way towards you guys and join you, standing. “Benny’s a member of the New York State Bar Association, and we are about to do something that, if it doesn’t go well, well, I don’t want to see Benny censured by the Bar.”

You follow him into his office, but as you are about to enter, he stops you, one hand on your shoulder. He squeezes it, looks at you in the eyes. 

“What we are about to do, Benny can never know.” You nod. “Look, I know I’m asking a lot, but I need you to promise me you aren’t going to spill it. Can you do that? Keep it from him?”

“Jason, that man killed two people. He deserves to pay. I’m not going to do anything that would put it in jeopardy.” 


	37. 2.13 Killshot

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you just say that you used to have long hair? As in, Izzy allowed you to? And where is proof of that?”

“I’m telling you, this guy has got it in for me!” Chunk all but screams between clenched teeth, hissing, as he paces the mock courtroom. 

“C’mon, you’ve been there, how long, two weeks? Do you really want to go to one of your professors and accuse him of anything’” You ask as you sit, cross-legged, on one of the chairs of the jury, looking at Chunk’s paper over Benny’s back.

“She is right,” Benny waves the paper in your direction. “Besides, it’s just one class, one professor.”

“I, I know guys, but… it’s just not right!”

“Yeah, well, good luck with changing his mind, then. I mean, when I was in college, there was a professor who though science wasn’t for women. Had to take his classes again and again and again because I just couldn’t pass anything. It was never enough.”

“Eh, sounds like when I was in Law School. There was this guy who hated me. He just saw a Puerto Rican kid with long hair and an attitude. He did everything he could to let me believe there was no place for me in the legal profession. And you know where he is today? He is dead, and I’m here. Which means that, this, too shall pass.”

Still unsure of your advice, Chunk leaves the room, sighing, and scratching the back of his head, while you stay in your seat. 

“Did you just say that you used to have long hair? As in, Izzie allowed you to? And where is proof of that?”

Laughing, Benny leaves the room. But not before having messed your hair up.


	38. 2.14 Keep Your Friends Close

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Well, Doctor Bull, looks like you were once again right.”

“So, this guy hacked into air traffic control and almost made two planes collide. Almost. And all the while, his code, spelled the name of this super-secret airline that transports military personnel and weapons all around the world in places no one is supposed to know about andthat our enemies would just _love_ to know about.” You chuckle as you shake your head, and you see Bull, from the corner of your eye, grinning. 

He got it. 

He understood, too, Malcom’s motive. 

“A mystery company that transports weapons, assets, military personnel all round the world, and no one knows where and when.” Jason chuckles, just like you. 

“Well, not exactly, US Air Force knows,” Marissa starts. “And also…”

“And also air traffic control.” You sigh, very pleased with the direction the case is taking. “He didn’t care about the planes. Air control has always been his objective. Either he wanted to prove to someone he could hack into it, or…”

“Or,” Bull looks at you, readjusting his glasses. “Or, it was just a diversion, and while the whole country was looking at two colliding planes, he stole what he wanted and he and his girlfriend are on their way out of the country, ready to sell military secrets at the highest bidders and get Malcom his revenge on the CIA and our Country. I said that I couldn’t figure out Malcom’s motive, why he took over air control just to do nothing with it, not even a ransom demand to the State.”

You shrug, grinning. “Well, Doctor Bull, looks like you were once again right.”


	39. 2.15 Witness For The Prosecution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "she wouldn’t do it again. No one of would do the same mistakes twice.”

“Have you talked with Cable?” Chunk asks you when you are alone in the kitchenette , your coffee already cold in your cup. 

“Yes and no.” You shrug, emptying the cup in the sink, puffing. “I’ve left her a few messages, but I haven’t heard back yet. I didn’t want to look to stalker-ish so, I just… I guess I’ll hear from her when I’ll her from her?” 

“You thought what you’ll her?” He asks as he plays with the same cup as Benny before him- Cable’s black cup, with the witty remark printed in pink. 

“I don’t know. I just can’t bring myself to be mad with her- which is what making Bull mad with me. I mean… she did a bad thing, but it was in good faith, and who among us hasn’t made a mistake, uh? I mean… few months ago we were defending Benny on the stand, and Bull got his best friend off for something he had done, and… and you don’t want to know what happened when I met a cute teacher visiting the crime lab with his studenta few years back.” He lifts an eyebrow, almost daring to confess your little crime, but you sigh, and closes your yes. “What I mean is… she wouldn’t do it again. No one of would do the same mistakes twice.”


	40. 2.16 Absolution

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “His was one of the first trails I was involved with when I entered into the trail science business… and it was the only time I really lost. But I’ve always thought, and I still do, that he was innocent.”

“Bites marks. No one is taking them in consideration any longer. Courts, police, forensic experts….” Bull indicates you with a wave of his hand. 

“And you are telling this because’” Benny asks, lifting an eyebrow.

“Is this about Derrick Graham?” You ask him, your arm crossed, and Bull nods. 

“His was one of the first trails I was involved with when I entered into the trail science business… and it was the only time I really lost. But I’ve always thought, and I still do, that he was innocent.”

“Hang on, are you talking about the Wall Street Slayer?” Danny asks, lifting her eyebrow a bit confused, and Bull nods.

“The DA had three pieces of evidence: first, his DNA on the victim’s body, which he admitted to,as he had kissed her prior the same evening.”

“All right, but I remember the case. he had confessed. that’s the main reason he was found guilty.” Benny chuckles, lightly, trying to see where Bull is going. 

“Yes, but it was a coerced confession, a false confession. Police lied to him in order to get him to confession- something it’s allowed here in the state of New York, but, still, we made it a very good job of making it clear to the jury but it wasn’t enough. And then, there was the bite mark.”

“Which is now considered bogus.” Benny nods, and you do too.

“Within reason- biting down on a _living_ human being is not the same as a mold- a human struggles, moves, and then there’s the density of muscles, of fat to consider. The impression could never be perfect, which means that, to analyze it, it has to be modified through an algorithm that takes in consideration a certain number of variables and the principal characteristics common in the majority of the population. Which means that, in order to analyze the evidence, you actually have to manipulate it which makes it susceptible to errors and bias. Hence goes number three.”

“Couldn’t have said it any better.” Bull shakes his head, impressed and proud, and almost claps his hands. “Now, my beloved former cop, would you like to destroy evidence 1 and 2 as well?”

“Gladly.” You nod, mockingly curtseying him. “The confession is easily annullable- you show the video to any jury, you question the cops on how they went about interrogating him, and no one will question that he thought that confessing was the only way to get out of an impossible situation.They keep him isolated for hours, tell him that he isn’t a person of interest, a suspect, just someone they need help from so that he wouldn’t call a lawyer. Then they keeps the lights on him, strong, they leave him alone for hours and hours. They’d give him salted goods, or give him again and again and again water, so that he would be either dehydrated or he’d need just the bathroom, but, guess what? It’s always five more minutes. And then, when they see from the mirror that he is struggling, they go in. they alternate bad cop and good cop and they build a carefully crafted lie to get a confession.”

“And an Ivy league educated investment banker confessed to a murder he didn’t commit? Just because they lied to him?” Chunk asks, a bit with disbelief.

“They told him the victim had identified him before dying- which never happened, because the police found her already dead. My client was in shock, upset, confused and when they suggested he had had a black-out, he went along with their version.”

“And here goes number two.” You huff, biting your cheek, thinking. “As for number one, the DNA… with the right jury we could raise reasonable doubt. The police never bothered doing a swab of the bite mark because they already had Graham’s DNA on her, but saliva from a kiss? That’s hardly evidence.”

“She is right.” Bull smiles lightly, lifting his hand in your general direction. “Let’s say we have a forensic expert in her late thirties, early forties. One evening, she goes out with her lady friends. She is getting drinks when enter Benny. “He indicates his good friend. “He sweet talks her, they hit it off and he walks her home. Makes out with her on her doorstep. Next morning, her best friend doesn’t hear from her, and so he goes to check her place, and he found her dead. CSU comes, and then the coroner, and the medical examiner. They examine the body. What would they find?”

You think. “Well, his saliva around my mouth, on my lips, because we’ve kissed. Maybe fibers from his coat on my clothes or on my jewels, and epithelial cells and hair or follicles if I was particularly into him and I’ve run my hands through his hair and scratched his scalp or his neck. Doesn’t mean Benny killed me, just that I was very much into him.” You clear your voice, hoping you are not blushing too much, given the fact that, of all the examples, Bull choose you and the man you like- a fact that he remembers all too well, if his smirk is of any indication. Which is absolutely crazy: just few months before, Jason was accusing you of being unable of moving on past your crush on his best friend/in-house counselor (very true) and suggesting nothing would have ever came out of it. And yet, now his voice is somehow filled with innuendo, and he seems to try to, well,push you into Benny’s arms.

“Glad to know you think I’m not your killer.” Benny, sniggers, leaning on his heels, almost sticking his chest out like a peacock. 

“Oh, sweetheart, it’s so sweet that you think you could get one on me.” You chuckle. “Let’s be honest, this whole scenario would be more believable if our roles were reversed- me the suspect killer, our beloved lawyer the victim.” 

“You are probably right, still, coming back to our main topic: I still think he was innocent. I want to file a motion to vacate the guilty verdict a get a new trial. Anyone with me?”


	41. 2.17 Gag Order

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Are you erasing your dating app, Benny?”

“Are you erasing your dating app?” You ask, chuckling, as you lean against the glass wall, appearing like from thin air at Benny’s back. Blushing lightly, he puts his smartphone away, quickly, without bothering to dignify you with an answer, and yet muttering something under his breath you don’t really understand- but you imagine being about ex cops with an attitude or Bull’s friends being as annoying as he is. “C’mon, Benny, there’s nothing to be ashamed of. A lot of middle-aged people use dating apps nowadays. Actually, the trend is dramatically increasing.”

“Ah, trust me, I’m still far away from middle age,” he smirks, looking at you in a way…. Like he was eating you out, or he wanted to dare you to _do_ something – anything, really – to prove and see for yourself that he isn’t, indeed, middle-aged.

You blush from the tip of your ears to your toes, as XXX-rated images of you and Benny, rolling in silky sheets in the throes of passion, flash right before your eyes.

“Benny, you bought _a bike_. And I’m pretty sure you got yourself a brand new Rolex for Christmas. And another Montblanc – a limited edition, if I’m not mistaken. Andyou got yourself a new haircut. If that doesn’t scream middle-age crisis, I don’t know what does.” You say, babbling a little, taking a yogurt from the fridge, giving your back to Benny so that he wouldn’t see you are, still, blushing. And thinking indecent thoughts of him.

“Ehy, I sold the bike last year, and the Rolex was a gift _from Bull._ But yeah, I got a new haircut and I did buy a Montblanc limited edition. You know how I am with technology.” He looks at you with intent, almost as he was studying your intention, tried to remember your whole features. “Someone has been paying a lot of attention to me lately, uh?”

“I was a cop, I’m still a cop at heart, and like Bull always says, I was _a very good cop_ , so, yeah, paying attention and knowing things is kind of my deal.” You try to smirk, knowing all too well that you are still blushing. Maybe even more than before. “And anyway, you went and gave a try at cyber-dating, don’t try to deny it.” 

“Guilty as charged.” He chuckles. “Did you?”

With the spoon in your mouth, you turn to face Benny. “Tried your hand at cyber-dating, I mean.”

You actually snicker. Or snort. Something very un-lady-like that would turn off any man in the ray of at least 200 mile. “Right. I was a cop, Benny- do you really picture me going on a blind date with someone I haven’t vetted at least twice? Someone who could have lied through their teeth? Seriously, Benny- cyber-dating for me is, like, the equivalent of… a random one night stand/ hook-up at a bar.” You pat him on the shoulder. “You want to meet someone? Call Izzie- I bet her agenda is filled with women who’d die to get your number.”

He lifts an eyebrow, and looks at you as you’ve just said the most absurd thing ever. “Really?”

You snort. Again. “C’mon, Benny- You’ve got a decent apartment you own, you are a talented lawyer working in quite an impressive sort of firm and who makes decent money. _And_ you are easy on the eye with not a lot of baggage. What’s not to like?” Your mouth stays wide open as you process what you just said, and then you nod as Benny looks at you smirking, devilish and handsome. “You know what? I just remembered that I have another quarterly report for my associates. Got to go. Tell Bull I say hi. And that I’ll be in my office.”

As you retreat with your tail between your legs, embarrassed as hell, you hear Benny’s quiet laughter filling your ears- and someone, even if you are somehow the subject of his mirth, you don’t care. 

It’s a really beautiful sound that fills your ears and your heart.


	42. 2.18 Bad Medicine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is that Cable I saw in the office, working on a bunch of computers and some code I don’t even pretend to understand?”

“Is that Cable I saw in the office, working on a bunch of computers and some code I don’t even pretend to understand?” You smile with glee, clapping your hands as you enter Bull’s office.

He snorts, pinching his nose. “Are you about to make some kind of victory dance? Because, please, just… don’t, all right?”

With hands joined at your back, smirking, you tip-toes towards his desk. “Nah, no victory dance, but… I want something from you. And I think You know all too well what it is that I crave the most.”

He sighs, keeping his mouth shout, just staring at you, and you do the same; it’s a duel, and you both want to see who will let it go of before.Minutes passes- even Marissa comes into the office and leaves a binder for Bull, and looks at you two as you were crazy people, until….

“Fine! You win! She is the most suited for this job and Isaiah was just a fake with a good magician trick! You happy now?!

You chuckle. “Hearing someone saying I’m right? That’s the best feeling in the world!”


	43. 2.19 A Redemption

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Is someone getting soft in her old age?” Benny whisper in your ear in a conspiratorial tone, chuckling.  
> “Well, quoting someone I know, I’m still far away from being old.”

“Is someone getting soft in her old age?” Benny whisper in your ear in conspiratorial tone, chuckling; you almost shiver, swallowing, as his breath tickles the hair on the back of your head.

“Well, quoting someone I know, I’m still far away from being old.” You sigh, a bit dreamily, the handles of your Birkin firmly in your hands, as you look at the scene unfolding right before you- on the court steps, your client, George Brown is asking his wife to marry him yet again – this time with his real name. 

And he kneeling down before her. As he was asking for her hand in marriage for the very first time.

You aren’t even pretending you aren’t moved by the scene. You sigh a little, sniffing, and Benny, smiling kindly, offers you his handkerchief- the silky square nobody uses any longer nowadays – to dry your tears. 

He looks at you with something you can’t really define in his eyes- pity, affection, love, friendship, so many years, so long, and yet you are still in the shadows when it comes to Benjamin Colòn. 

Bull thought you to read everybody, and yet, when it comes to you, to the people you are the closest to, using Maroon 5’S words… you really don’t know nothing at all.

“Jealous?” He asks you. 

You shrug. “Not really. Maybe. But just a little. I mean, it’s been a very, very long time since a man proposed to me. And back when he did, it was a _“Ehy, wonna get married?”_ over beers and fish and chips.”

He tsk-tsks you. “Oh, then you really are a romantic. Waiting for… a Christmas proposal, underneath the Christmas tree, maybe?” he nudges you on the shoulder, gently, jokingly. “C’mon, one of these days, you’ll get a knight in shining armor who’ll propose in a decent manner. A girl like you can’t be alone for too long, trust me.”

You nudge him back, smiling, blushing a little, and then you leave… unable to take your eyes away from the soon-to-be Mr. and Mrs. Greyson. 


	44. 2.20 Justified

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You should tell him. If she isn’t telling him the truth, you should. It’s not right that he learns Izzie is marrying by reading a damn newspaper!”  
> He pouts. “Why don’t you tell him? You were his friend before me, he isn’t going to hold you accountable! I don’t want to be the messenger who gets shot!”

“Oh, knowing her, I think you can’t go wrong with _this.”_ You indicate a delicate cellar cake dome, porcelain and glass with delicate decors, on the screen of Benny’s computer. You can already imagine it in her Instagram stories, with all the stuff she likes to do.

“Well, an amazing gift for an amazing girl – amazing price tag, too.” He whistles,but smiling, and you already think he is about to add something when Bull enters into the mock court, looking slightly annoyed. 

“Benny, your sister called me three times last night, but she kept hanging up before I could answer. Something I should know about?”

You keep your eyes glued on Bull, because you know that weakness, he’ll know you are hiding something, and you’d pinch Benny- you told him he was supposed to talk with Bull. Of course, you could have given him the news yourself, but you are not family. Izzie, Benny, Jason, they were. 

Besides, it was Benny who dragged you into this mess, when he had the brilliant idea of asking you for advice over the damn gift. 

“I have no idea, but if she called you, maybe you should call her back.” You can see him sweating a little, and you wonder if, in the semi-darkness of the mock court, Jason can, too. Or if he’ll notice the way Benny his batting his eyes- an indication he is holding something back.

“I did. She didn’t answer. Left a couple of voicemails. She didn’t returned my calls.” He clears his voice, looks at the two of you a little scared. “It’s not an alimony thing, right?”

You groan, in a very un-lady like manner. “I’m pretty sure she makes way more than you do, Jason- if nothing else, _you_ should ask for alimony.”

“She I kind of right, you know.” Benny agrees with you, then he turns back to Bull. “Anyway, you know Izzie. She isn’t shy. If she has something important to tell you, she will.”

“Uhm. Point Taken.” Jason seems to ponder Benny’s thoughts, then he nods and leaves. Benny actually breathes a sigh of relief and falls on the chair, exhausted. You just roll your eyes and glare at him.

“You should tell him.” You cross your arms over your chest. “Benny, if she isn’t telling him the truth, you should. It’s not right that he learns Izzie is marrying by reading a damn newspaper!”

He pouts. “Why don’t _you_ tell him? You were his friend before me, he isn’t going to hold you accountable! I don’t want be the messenger who gets shot!”

“What are you guys, five? He isn’t going to be mad with you – if he didn’t got mad when he walked home to find it empty, he never will. Besides,you guys are family- not me.”

“Chicken.” He mocks you, grinning. 

You slap him on the back of the head as you walk away. “Good! Then, next time you need help, go ask someone else, overgrown baby. And tell Jason. Or tell Izzie to man up and be honest.”


	45. 2.21 Reckless

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Jase, it may seems odd to you, but ever since my husband died, I’ve been known to date. I am dating right now, actually. You’d love him. He is very British. And a professor.”  
> “Thought you had a thing for slightly younger men, not that you had Electra’s complex .” He sinkers, and you roll your eyes as you blush a little.   
> “I’ll let you know that dr. Harry Cavanaugh’s just 45, not 75.”

“I got your message, what’s going on?” You trench draped over your arm, an old leather briefcase with casefiles on the shoulder, you practically run into the bar Jason asked you to join him, for an “emergence”. You left in a hurry, leaving a preliminary analysis to a fellow of yours, thinking that Jason had important case for you, and yet…

Yet, he is just drinking. And from the look of it, he’s been drinking for a while. 

“Benny’s girlfriend was about to miss curfew, so I told him to go and join her, and that I would have called my single friend to dwell on our common misery. By the way, I’m sorry.” 

Rolling your eyes, you take residence on the chair next to him, and signal to a cure bartender- the only positive thing of the evening so far- for one of whatever your friend is having. “Jase, with all due respect, but rather than, quoting you, dwell on our supposedly common misery of single individuals, I would have preferred to dwell on my work. The county asked for my lab’s assistance in a big case, and I don’t really have time to lose right now.”

“Supposedly?” He lifts an eyebrow. Or tries to. He is a bit drunk, after all, and you take a big breath.

“Jase, it may seems odd to you, but ever since my husband died, I’ve been known to date. I am dating right now, actually. You’d love him. He is very British. And a professor.”

“Thought you had a thing for slightly younger men, not that you had Electra’s complex .” He sinkers, and you roll your eyes as you blush a little. 

“I’ll let you know that dr. Harry Cavanaugh’s just 45, not 75.” You sip your drink, and show him your tongue, as childish as he can be.

“With a name like Harry? I highly doubt that. Anyway,” He looks at you in the eyes, suddenly serious, and yet you can see traces of the amusing man you’ve known in the past. “Izzie’s getting remarried and I’m pretty sure that everybody knew it but me, you too, young lady. _And_ you didn’t tell me. Such a good friend, uh?”

You sigh, running an hand through your hair. “Jase, it was between you two. Besides, I didn’t learnt it from her. Besides, pitying isn’t really our thing, all right? It’s not what we do. You don’t pity me for my love life, and I shouldn’t have to pity you because you’ve been drinking too much.”

He sighs, shaking his head and looking away. “You want me to call a taxi? We can share.”

“No, I… I’ll call one. I think… I need to clear my heada little first.” You nod, and give him a kiss on the cheek.

“You’ll not do something stupid, right? Like… calling Izzie or trying to break into her apartment to talk her out of getting married?”

He looks at you as he was actually disappointed in you or ashamed by your accusation – like he was actually _hurt._ “I’d never…”

“Yes, you definitely would.You love theatrics. That’s why I shouldn’t leave you alone. But, I have work to do, and I think you could at least pretend to still be a fully functional adult for a few hours, all right?”You give him another quick kiss on the cheek, and leave. “Just take care, all right? And don’t be an idiot.”


	46. 2.22 Death Sentence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “When was the last death penalty case dealt in the state of new York? In the seventies?”  
> Benny nods. “Yeah, but since 2007, death penalty has been reintroduced for particularly heinous crimes, especially ones against federal employees. And Elliot has been found guilty of killing one- with his family.”

“So, I’ve looked _again_ at the evidence and there’s nothing. Fire destroyed pretty much everything we had, any possible any exculpatory DNA included, and all we are left is the car, which has just the victims and Elliot’s DNA and prints all over it.” Benny and Chunk are going over some legal legwork, and Marissa is looking around feeling useless and alone from the look of it. You pretty much feel the same, too.

You put your bag on the shoulder, and rearrange your old t-shirt from a band no one knows and probably never will. You don’t really look like your old fabulous self- more like an old and sad and tired cat lady in old running shoes. “Sorry I couldn’t be of more help.”

“Nah, you did all you could.” Benny pinches the bridge of his nose and sighs, and then he looks at you. “Are you sure you are all right?”

“Not really. This case is…. Literally giving me nightmares. And I’m worried about…”You take a deep breath and fall on the chair next to him, making an half-nod with your head, knowing that he will get your meaning. “And… the County also took away my job- well, _the lab’s work,_ actually. They didn’t take it kindly that we worked on this case with your guys.”

“I know how you feel” Marissa sighs. “There’s nothing I can do around here, either.”

“Aren’t you suppose to, like, running some focus group with our mirror jurors?” Chunk asks her, lifting an eyebrow.

“It’s a nice thought, but our algorithm isn’t set up for the penalty phase hearings. It’s about emotions, which a machine can’t really translate.”

“And something you don’t have any data on, either. No statistics whatsoever. I mean,” You turn towards Benny. “When was the last death penalty case dealt in the state of new York? In the seventies?”

He nods. “Yeah, but since 2007, death penalty has been reintroduced for particularly heinous crimes, especially ones against federal employees.And Elliot has been found guilty of killing one- with his family.”

“Are you sure you are all right? You are kid of yellowish…”As you walk arm in arm outside the courtroom with Jason, you look at him with a tired smile. You both are happy for having saved his client in the nick of time- but you are worried, you can’t help but worrying, that something is wrong. 

That he is wrong. 

He nods. “Yeah. Just needed the fresh air. I’ll give Marissa a call, tell her I’ll be home sleeping eight to ten hours, and then I’ll be as fresh as a rosebud.” 

He massages his left hand, his whole arm, actually, and, as you smile at a guy on the steps coming towards you – Harry, tall, smiling blue eyes shining black hair \- you see it with the corner of your eye. “Jase?”

“Muscle cramps. I was very tense. Now, just stop worrying, will you? And go get your man!”

You roll your eyes and sigh dramatically. “All right, I guess I’ll see you tomorrow, then, Boss Man.”

He nods, and you, smiling, join Harry, and kiss him, allowing him to put an hand on the small of your back and walk you to his car.

You don’t turn back- so you don’t see Bull collapsing on the ground, holding his heart like for dear life. 

It will definitely be more than 24 hours before you’ll see him again.


	47. 3.0 The Wedding

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon, cheer up! It’s a wedding, not a funeral!” You almost jump and spill your drink when Benny energetically pats you on the shoulders.   
> “Pretty sure it’s gonna be TAC’s funeral if we keep up like we are doing right now or the big man doesn’t come back. We lost two big cases, and people’s not calling any longer. And if TAC closes, I lose my major income, and you guys will lose your only one.”  
> “Please- do you really want to waste such a nice dress by sitting here all on your own the whole evening, musing about such a trivial thing as money? Let’s dance!”

There’s a lot of people at Marissa and Greg’s wedding, for being a second wedding and “ _extremely casual, rather small and intimate affair_.” The pair decided to get re-married, after a few months of dating (once again, after the fiasco of a couple of years ago) in Greg’s first restaurant.

Marissa reserved a table for the closest people from work, and you are currently nursing a drink of champagne (and looking at everything and nothing in particular ) while, on one side, Cable is chatting up a guy, and on the other, Chink is showing his date- i.e. his daughter – everyone he happens to know there, how he got to know them and how he managed to get Marissa such an amazing dress forsuch a low price for this ceremony. 

You sigh. Weddings are never been your things, and you feel out of place, and guilty and mad all at the same time. You are made because your best isn’t allowed to speak with you because he is in rehabilitation, and frankly, he doesn’t even seems bothered by this, and you feel guilty because there’s a tiny, insignificant and yet loud part of you that keeps saying that maybe, just maybe, he’d like to be around you guys, and he should be here, congratulating his good friend on her wedding day (and maybe, just maybe, remembering her how miserable she felt after Greg broke her heart and crushed it in a million tiny little pieces and stepped over it again and again and again).

“C’mon, cheer up! It’s a wedding, not a funeral!” You almost jump and spill your drink when Benny energetically pats you on the shoulders. You close your eyes and exhale as you tilt your head back and meet his smiling eyes. 

“Pretty sure it’s gonna be TAC’s funeral if we keep up like we are doing right now or the big man doesn’t come back. We lost two big cases, and people’s not calling any longer. And if TAC closes, _I_ lose my major income, and _you guys_ will lose your only one.”

“C’mon, pretty lady- do you really want to waste such a nice dress by sitting here all on your own the whole evening, musing about such a trivial thing as money? Let’s dance!”

You blush a little, suddenly conscious, and your brain is filled with memories. You are not exactly sure why – probably because he is a decent and nice human being – but every time you wear a dress, Benny compliments you. Of course, the number of dresses you actually own is rather small, and you keep them for rather fancy occasions, so they _are_ nice. Still, it’s good hearing that he find your navy blue, floral printed dress with the sheer sleeves nice. 

You smirk. Still blushing. “I’m too short to dance.”

He dismiss your affirmation with awave of his hand. “Nonsense. With these heels you are just the perfect height for me.” He lifts an eyebrow, daring you, and, like Bull always says, you’re not one to back down from a challenge, so you accept his hand when he offers it and you walk on unsteady legs to the makeshift dancefloor. 

Your left hand goes to his shoulder as he cups your hip with his right, and, as you interlaces your fingers of your free hands, you slow-dance. Your cheeks burn, and you can’t help but look at your feet- not because you don’t know how to dance, but because you can’t bring yourself to meet Benny’s eyes. 

“Eyes are up here.” He chuckles, and you nod, and comply. He smiles, and, as much as you try to, as much as your expression can pass as a smile… you wonder in you are doing any good, if you are masking the attraction you’ve always felt for him, the shivers running through your whole being at his touch. 

“You are beautiful tonight,” he admits, with misty eyes looking with laser-like focus on you. His gaze falls on your lips, and it’s like he’d like to say something- but he doesn’t. 

“You are not that bad either.” You manage to say, as your hand leaves his shoulder and moves to his heart, feeling the unsteady beat there. “Benny, I…”

“Benny, you did promise me one dance!” You hear giggles as Benny suddenly leaves your embrace, looking at you as you were burning. His eyes as big as saucer, he swallows, as he was scared of something- or someone. “Honey?”

He turns to look at the elf-like creature who’s taken his arm without even having to ask to. Young- maybe even far too young – perfect hair, perfect skin, slender and tall and with a smile that could enlighten a whole room. 

In two words… your opposite. 

And, apparently, Benny’s date,or girlfriend- maybe the one Bull told you about that night at the bar, the one who he said looked so young she looked like she had curfew. 

“Yeah. Sorry. He’s all yours. Oh, look, Marissa’s getting ready to leave, I guess I’ll go and say hi! Excuse me guys and have a nice evening!” You say in one breath, trying to put as much distance as you can between you and Benny. 

You find a corner where to hide, your back against the cold concrete as you swallow in self-pity, and call yourself pathetic.

He isn’t yours, and yet, somehow, you keep forgetting that. Even if you’ve tried to move on, tried to date, there’s always something holding you back- Benny’s secret smiles at you, his touches, and the things he tells you, just like right now… or even your worries about work, and life and Jason (the reason you and Harry broke up in the first place, actually).

Tomorrow, you’ll be stronger- and you’ll do your best to really move on from him. 


	48. 3.1 The Ground Beneath Their Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, Horizon Labs isn’t interested in pursuing this joint venture in particular.”  
> “You are hired guns, sweetheart, and you are in my retainer. Which means that this case is yours, too.”  
> “We’re not interested, Jason. And I fear that you may come to have to choose between us and Equi-Safe Insurance, in the future.”  
> “We are companies. Not charities. You do remember that, right?”

“So, any idea when _he_ is due to come back?” You ask as you enter Bull’s office, where the rest of the team is already assembled, awaiting his return. “Because, honestly, I don’t.” There’ a little edge to your voice, and you have lines on your face. You are… maybe not mad, but at least, annoyed. Bull’s been threating you like you were just an employee, and not, for the lack of a better word, family. 

“C’mon, people. You know he isn’t going to be the same guy. Something like that, confronting your own mortality, that’s got to change you.” Benny pauses, looks right before him. He is very… moved. And like any other good Catholic, he really believes that something like that is supposed to make people better. 

Well, you’ve never been a good Catholic after all. 

You lift an eyebrow. “Benny, with all due respect, but… do you believe in unicorns? That pigs can fly? Because it’s _Bull._ He’s just not…. wired like that. A nicer and kinder version of him?” You snicker. “Please.”

“Ah, c’mon, girl, how can he not be?”

You look at him, eyebrow still lifted. “Benny, I’ve known Bull since I was a teenager. When he moved here, I was his next of kin because he didn’t know anyone in the City. Do you think that in the last few months he’s been talking with me? With any of us?”

“So… he doesn’t know we lost two cases?” Danny asks. 

“No, no one told him anything. He didn’t want to be disturbed.” Marissa interferes, joining you all and leaving folders on his desk and letters. “Until he told me he was ready to come back to work, I didn’t have any contact with him whatsoever.”

“So, he doesn’t know about you and Greg coming back together?” Danny snickers a little, as it was impossible hiding something from Bull. “By the way, do you still call him your ex, even if he isn’t your ex any longer?”

“Oh, no, now it’s her ex-ex.” Chunk smiles, making fun of Marissa.

“Can I talk with you for a second?” You tip-tap on Bull’s shoulder when the meeting is over. “Mr. Hitchcock, I’ll give you DR. Bull back in a minute.” You grin – the falsest smile this side of the Ocean- and walk back to Bull’s office, keeping the door open for Jason to enter behind you. 

“So?” he asks, lifting an eyebrow. 

“So…” you took a big breath, joining your finger before you. “So, Horizon Labs isn’t interested in pursuing this joint venture in particular.”

“You are hired guns, sweetheart.” He snickers a little. “And you are in my retainer. Which means that this case is yours, too.”

“We’re not interested, Jason. And I fear that you may come to have to choose between us and Equi-Safe Insurance, in the future.”

“We? Who’s this we you are talking about? Because I wonder if your partners, you remember them, Jason Hernandez and Dr. Sonia York, Well, I wonder if they know you are telling me no.”

“We were cops, Jason. We had ideal. We still do.” You close the distance between the two of you, and look in Jason’s eyes. He looks down on you- not just because you’re short, but because… because he really things you are being idiotic. Small. Childish. Immature. “We are people who thinks that, if you pay for Medicare, you are supposed to have it. That time shouldn’t be given a price to.”

“We are companies. Not charities. You do remember that, right?”

“I remember that I want to go back home at night and sleep because I know I was in the right, and made no harm. That’s what I want. This is what _you_ used to want.”

He clenches his teeth. “I want you to leave my office, go home and think carefully about what I told in that conference room and what I just told you _now._ And then, I want you to remember that TAC is Horizon’s prime employer, and, as our contract clearly stated, we got first call. Also, if I’d be you, I’d either call Jason and Sonia and listen to what _they think_ about an increase in your revenue, and if you really think that this may be the best place for you, work-wise.”

You don’t even bother to say hello or add another word as you leave the room – and the building.


	49. 3.2 Jury Duty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Trust me. My back pain is all in my back. You know what I’d need? A massage. Some good soul who’d ease my pain.” He tsk-tsks you, looking at your with a flirtatious grin.

“You better at least turn the lights on if you don’t want to give Bullanother heart attack.” You bite your lips as you look down at Benny, laying down _on a table,_ hands joined over his belly. “Speaking of which, is he back yet?”

He nods, just to grimace, and run an hand down the back of his neck. “Ouch. Yeah. Saw him going back to his office. Not sure he noticed me, though. I was too busy having my back killing me.”

“I’m telling you what Bull would say. it’s all in your head. You are stressed, and worried, and it reflects on your muscles, hence the back hurting. Completely normal. Should see my arms, they hurt like hell when I have troubles.”

“No, no…” he shakes his head, and winches again in pain. “Trust me. my back pain is all in my back. You know what I’d need? A massage. Some good soul who’d ease my pain.” He tsk-tsks you, looking at your with a flirtatious grin.

You blush, and clear your voice. He smirks, and you look away. “So, Bull, he’s back, right? I kind of need to talk with him.”

You are making your way to Bull’s office when Benny’s voice calls you back. You turn. “You back already?” you nod and he smiles. “Good. Good. Glad to hear.”

“Are you laughing at me?” Jason asks as you enter his office, just to find him seated at his desk. 

“Yeah, sorry, but, the jury whisper, the man who settles billion dollars deals in court, who wins verdicts right and left… and you seriously can’t talk your way out of jury duty? C’mon, Jase – It’s good, you’ll have to admit it. You were part of a jury and you had to go through the whole thing!”

He tsk-tsks you. “The judge loved me. Trust me. I know. For sure.” He sits behind his desk, and grins. “So… are we talking again?”

You shrug. “I guess we are. I can admit that I’ve been rather… impulsive in my judgement. But, in my defense, I was… annoyed with you. I know you were sick. I know you just wanted to get better, but… I didn’t particularly appreciated being treated like… like one of the guys. I thought we had… well, more. But, I thought about it, and, I want to tell you that I understand.”

“Who are you and what did you do with my friend?”

You lower your head, and take a breath. “I just wanted for you to know that I’m sorry. That I know I overreacted. And that, if you’ll want us, if you’ll want me… we’d like to get back to collaborate with TAC.” You put a little. 

“And TAC would be glad to work yet again on a first call basis with Horizon Labs.”

“Good. Good.” You stand up, and, once by the door, you stop, and turn to look at Jason. Still dressed in sweats, he lifts an eyebrow. “I saw Benny, sitting in the dark in the other room? I think you should talk with him. I think he feels a little guilty. For those two cases. For this one. Pretty sure his back is killing him again.”

You don’t leave the room, almost as you wanted to say something more, but you don’t speak- and neither does Bull. “Honey…” he sighs, running an hand through his hair. 

“I know.” you bite your lips. “Trust me, I know it’s unhealthy, and I know we’ve talked about this before, but… I can’t help it!” you go back to sit before him, and start slamming your head against the glass, lightly. “Jase, do something. Make me stop. It’s stupid and childish, and I need to be lectured about not seeing things that aren’t there and imagining him sending me mixed signals.”

He sighs, rolling his eyes, hating himself for having tried to talk with you. He should have known it’d be troubling. “So… what does Henry thinks of this… thing you and Benny have going on? This thing where he… comes to talk with you at work, and buys you flowers, and, compliments you and all those other things he seems to be doing for and with you?” He scratches the back of his head. 

“It’s _Harry,_ thank you very much, and he doesn’t think anything, because he broke up with me. Shortly before Marissa’s marriage.”

“Because you and Benny…” he waves his hand in the air, and you suddenly got the meaning. What he thinks is happening between you and Benny, and you open your eyes wide. 

“WHAT? NO!” You scream, just to lower your voice. “No! I’m not sleeping with Benny! God, no. He thought I was sleeping with _you._ No, he actually thought Benny was gay.” You pause. “Benny’s not gay, right? Please, tell me I didn’t fall _again_ for a gay guy. Or a soon-to-be priest. Twice is enough.”

“A… priest?! What the hell have you been up to since College?”

“Yeah, it’s a long story.” You wave in air, dismissing the whole thing, and you leave tour seat. “Anyway. Great talking with you. Good luck with the case, and whatever you need, just call. We’re back on your payroll, boss!”


	50. 3.3 Excessive Force

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You get it- he likes talking with you, getting advice, asking for your opinion. But, you are kind of confused. He has a girlfriend- shouldn’t he be doing those sort of things with her?  
> And by the way… was he about to kiss you at Marissa’s wedding?   
> And why does he have to be always, oh, always, so impeccable and charming?

You are at Horizon, working on some numbers on your computer, one hand ruffling your hair, pen behind the ear, when Benny knocks. You barely resist sighing out loud, because you are kind of getting tired of this routine of yours. 

You get it- he likes talking with you, getting advice, asking for your opinion. But, you are kind of confused. He has a girlfriend- shouldn’t he be doing those sort of things with her?

And by the way… was he about to kiss you at Marissa’s wedding? 

And why does he have to be always, oh, always, so impeccable and charming? 

“Your people reviewed the footage from the bodycam?” He asks,, and you close your laptop. 

“Yeah, Jason- eh, Hernandez did. All good, all legit, she did the deed. Not that there was any doubt about that. I don’t get it,why did you guys wanted for us to study the footage?”

He collapses on the chair before you, hands on his belly, ankle crossed. “I don’t know. Maybe we hoped you’d see something we missed? I’m not even sure.” He puffs, and taps with his fingers on your desk as you both stay in silence too long for comfort. “So, for totally unrelated purposes… what’s your impute on this? As a former cop _and_ a woman.”

“My impute is that the city should settle because, if they go to trial, things will just spiral out of control – and I’m not just talking about the fact that this lady could lose. I’m talking about violence. I’m talking about the 1992 Los Angeles riots. Over fifty people dead. Billions of damages, thousands of injured. If they want to stop this before it’s too late, they have to make a deal. That’s all there is to it.”

“But, as a former cop, and as a woman…”

“As a cop and a woman, I wouldn’t have left my gun on the sink. I didn’t even used to leave my gun _in the car,_ for God’s sake. Besides, you saw the video. He was drunk. He wasn’t going the gun, just the sink. All he wanted to do was free the space and get sick in peace. Besides, as out as he was? She could have easily deflected, take the gun back without firing a single bullet.”

“You think?” He lifts an eyebrow. Smirking. He dares to smirk, the jerk. 

You chuckle, a bit darkly. “When I was twenty-two, I went to work in this bar. Kind of a pub, actually. Short shorts, white shirt, heels that destroyed my legs… that sort of things. Anyway, when guys tried to grab me, what do you think I did? I hit them. Slapped them. Keened them in the groin. Once, I dislocated a shoulder. But I didn’t called my boss and tell him to grab his gun!”

“Daisy dukes and white shirts? God, tell me you kept that!”

You grin, throwing him a ball of paper. “Sure I did. It’s what I use to wear around the house when I’m cleaning.”


	51. 3.4 Justice For Cable

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Stop looking outside the window and feel guilty, you idiot. Cable wouldn’t want that.”

“Stop looking outside the window and feel guilty, you idiot.” You leave a skinny latte on Bull’s desk, and sit across from him, your bag on the floor, legs crossed, as you sip, eyes closed in bliss, at the blissfully magnificent taste that hit your mouth- you do love seasonal things at Starbucks, for sure. “Cable wouldn’t want that.”

He sighs. “I like this woman, and for some reason, she likes me back. Think I’m all out to get the bad guys.”

“She really doesn’t know you.” You snicker in your cup. “Sorry. It’s just, you have to admit it yourself, you… kind of alternate moments when you are a decent human being to moments when you are a jerk out for the money.”

“Sorry.” He plays with his fingers.

“Nah, don’t start. I mean, you are my friend, and I’ve always gotten you. Besides, you come from money, so it’s normal that money would be important for you. Just… threat her well, OK? She sound lovely. And really good at her job. And she is an employee- not your friend. I always forgive and forget, Jase, but my dear, not everyone is as understanding as me.”


	52. 3.5 The Missing Piece

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you know that there was a serial killer in Europe who killed over 40 people between 1993 and 2009? Only, there wasn't, nor really, but the Police, for over fifteen years, thought so, based on DNA samples collected on crime scenes scattered between Austria, France, Germany and Italy. Only, it wasn’t the killer’s DNA, but it came from a woman who worked at the factory where the swabs were actually made.”

“Well, this is kind of hard to win. I mean, over 95% of jurors would immediately sentence him just based on DNA, because they think tests are infallible. Problems is, that’s not entirely true.” you say, stealing Marissa’s thunder, standing in front of TAC team. “So, in a way, we’ve got our job partly cut out for us, because our client’s DNA was collected by an heritage site, which more often than not employ personnel of poor level. In many cases, mistakes were made, willingly, just to frame a suspect in particular of just close a case and shout the public opinion up. Or they were plain mistakes- maybe because the chain of evidence wasn’t respected, or because… because of something like the Ghost of Heilbronn.” You smirk. 

“The what?” Chunk asks, sensing your amusement. 

You bite your lips as you cross your arms over your chest. “Did you know that there was a serial killer in Europe who killed over 40people between 1993 and 2009?”

“No, I didn’t?” He asks you. 

“Of course you don’t, because there wasn’t.” you chuckle. “But the Police, for over fifteen years, thought so, based on DNA samples collected on crime scenes scattered between Austria, France, Germany and Italy. Only, it wasn’t the killer’s DNA, but it came from a woman who worked at the factory where the swabs were actually made.”

Taylor bites down on her pen, looking a bit lost in her thoughts. “Yeah, I think I saw something like that? On CSI?”

You nod, hands joined before you. “Now, this is an heritage site, zero reputation whatsoever, they are basically just money maker, low credibility, which means we can stall for time and redo the exam on our own. Although, there is something else I think we should think of.”

“You mean, besides how can Bull choose a jury that wouldn’t sentence him besides evidence that everyone believes to be sound?” Benny asks you, chuckling a bit darkly. 

“So, we know they had a warrant, but, how did they know where to send it? This man had no relationship with the victim, they had no idea who they were looking for. So, how did they get to this site, this company? 26 millions of Americans made at-home test as of January of this year, and the fact they had a warrant… aren’t you wondering why?”

“She is right.” Chunk mumbles. “They would have needed probable cause for a warrant. Which they didn’t, because this man shouldn’t have been on their radar to begin with. But what if… what if they knew where to look? What if they sent the DNA samples to all the genealogical companies they knew of, hoping they would get an answer?”

“They would have received an alert at the company already had the DNA. Which means they would have known where to look.”

“So, you guys think that, if we go to a judge, they could rule all this DNA evidence collected as inadmissible?” Taylor asks.

“Well, it’s worth a shot.” Benny ponders. And you do, too. Thinking that, back in the day, back when you were wondering working there, five years ago…. Something like that would have never happened. Your boss, you… you’d never do that, knowing all too well how frail evidence collected like that is. Neither would have the DA’s office signed on something like that.

You look at your friend, sighing. 

You feel like there are days you are both glad neither of you is where you sued to be in the past. 


	53. 3.6. Fool Me Twice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> . “So, what do you think? You think I got married in a rush? Because I think I made a mistake.”

“Do you think I got married in a hurry?” Your eyes on the microscope, still with your white coat, you barely lift your eyes from the samples when Marissa goes to sit on a stool next to you, hands folded in her lap. You don’t answer immediately, just clench your eyes focusing on your job, then, as you see, with the corner of your eyes, that she is about to speak again, you huff, and decided that this can wait- but not her. 

You look at her for the longest time, then, she repeats her question. “So, what do you think? You think I got married in a rush? Because _I_ think I made a mistake.”

You open your arms wide. “Marissa, what do you want from me? Relationship advice? Because this is the latest place you should be looking for. I’m _awful_ at relationships. I was even awful at being married.”

She doesn’t reply to your statement. She stays in silence, picking at her fingernails- a shame, they are perfect, her voice low, filled with shame and regret and fear and doubt. “My husband owes millions of dollars – millions! - he never told me about.” 

You tap with your fingers on the table. “He manages a restaurant group, Mar. Of course he wouldn’t have just his money. He gotinvestors – it’s normal. It’s working capital, a matter of shareholders. Thinking of it as debt is reductive. You’re one of the smartest person I know, you should know that, right?” 

She shakes her head. “All I know is that he is two weeks away from losing everything, if he doesn’t pay his investors back, and I didn’t know that.”

“All right. And, have you asked him if he had any other investors interested in paying the those millions for him? Or if he happened, between himself and his partners, to actually have the liquid assets to pay back the investors?” You tap on her hands, as she doesn’t want to look at you, meet your eyes. “C’mon, Mar. You’ve known this man your whole adult life. If he was a criminal, you’d know. This isn’t a repeat of your relationship with Kyle. Besides, if Bull thought your husband was unfit, he would have told you, _this time.”_

She nods, but this time, she is smiling. “Yeah, I think he still feels guilty over the whole Kyle thing. But I guess I was too enamored to actually listen to what people had to tell me.”

“Mar, I don’t know why Greg didn’t tell you about his debt. Husbands do stupid things the whole time. God knows Noah used to. Even about work. Even if I was a cop and he could have told me everything. But he didn’t. And here we are. Him dead and me a single former cop.” 

“Yeah.” She takes a big breath, lifts her eyes to meet your eyes. “So, you think I’m rushing? In thinking he may have done this on purpose?”

You laugh a little. “Listen, I can’t tell you if he did that on purpose- _yet._ But, if you have any doubt about him, just ask Greg what happened. Why he didn’t tell you anything.”


	54. 3.7 A Girl Without Feelings

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So, tell me, did you know that, according to the US Center for Disease Control, the average hair grows of 0.50 inches per month?”

Chuckling, and entering in Bull’s office with a gleam in your eyes- unannounced, you leave a folder on his table. He is looking at Tally’s latest drawings, and Benny’s bowed over law books, trying to find a way out of this impasse- trying to win Tally a way out.

“So, tell me, did you know that, according to the US Center for Disease Control, the average hair grows of 0.50 inches per month?”

Bull breaths in, and looks at you scratching his head. “All right. So?”

You roll your eyes, and sigh. “So, we know Brian Davidson is in custody for possession and distribution of, among other things, Roipnol. So, when you suggested your client could have been drugged, I checked if CSU collected any samples, which they didn’t because they arrested her on the spot. Now, it was too late to check her blood or her urine because it decays between 25 and 60 hours, _but_ hair don’t really have this issue.”

“You did it. You checked her hair!” Benny chuckles, almost proud, and you nod.

“Yep. Collected it in the presence of a Detective and a lab technician than can testify that it was indeed her hair and it never broke chain of custody. Still, I did it. Now, bear with me. CSU’s been checking them too, as it’s protocol, and the accuracy of this approach had not been fully established, but, the analysis does suggest she was exposed to flunitrazepam in the last few weeks and the juries just _love_ hearing all this scientific mumbo jumbo. It may not solve your drawing problem, but it could help putting her in a different light.”

Bull, suddenly, smiles, chuckling, tapping his fingers against his desk. “I think it’s time we pay a visit to our drug dealer red-capped friend, and have a long, nice talk with the DA…”


	55. 3.8 But For The Grace

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think I just threw a poor girl under the bus.”

“Uhm. I just threw a poor girl under the bus.” Benny sighs as he sits down in front of your desk, his forehead hitting the wooden surface lightly again and again. “You just have no idea how bad I feel about that. She did what anyone would have done in her place. What everyone did in her place. Me included.”

“Did you have any other choice?” You candidly ask, trying to sound as sweet as possible.

He shakes his head, meeting your eyes. “Not really. That prosecutor has a dead man, many, many witnesses and our client plead guilty to pushing the victim. Still, I can’t help but thinking about this poor girl, she’s been out of law school less than two years. Was first chair for the very first time.” He shakes his head.

“well, I guess it’s our job, We always throw someone under the bus. I mean, any idea how many of my former colleagues don’t talk with me because you guys grilled them on the stand or because my testimony doesn’t agree with theirs?”

“I know, I know, still…” He leans back in his chair, focusing on the ceiling, hands joined don his belly. “She’s been reported to the state bar and all for nothing.”

You join your hands under your chin. “It was an hail Mary, Benny, but you had to try it. Don’t feel bad. I think she knows that, too, or she wouldn’t have come looking for you guys if she didn’t know she had made a mistake.” 


	56. 3.9 Separation

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you think Izzy was right? That I can’t be alone.”

“Want to tell auntie dear what’s on your mind?” You steal Jason’s drink from under his nose. The glass still full, untouched on his desk. 

“For the record, joke’s only funny when I do that.” He chuckles, a bit darkly. “Do you think Izzy was right? That I can’t be alone.”

You just shrug. “Seems to be you’ve been alone quite a while after your accident. Why? A divorcee about to remarry his ex-wife got you thinking?”

He shakes his head, looking at the ceiling as you swallow his drink, carefully, slowly, the liquor burning down your throat. “I don’t know.” 

“You are not about to do something stupid, are you?” It’s hi time to shrug. “Is it about this case or about the fact that even Marissa married her ex? Or everything and nothing at all?”

“I really don’t know.” He admits, still staring at the ceiling, sighing.

“Jase, Izzy is happy, and you are… content. Don’t ruin it. Please.” He pours you another drunk, and chuckles.


	57. 3.10 A Higher Law

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Hang on. Are those Pio’s calamari? Because if they are, I could actually marry you.”  
> “Flattery’s going to bring you far in live, Mister Colòn. Anyway, yes, they are indeed Pio’s calamari- good, still, I’m much more of a Bocuherie kind of gal myself. ”

“Here. Comfort food. For your soul _and_ your stomach.” You leave the white bag on Benny’s desk, late at night. It’s almost two in the morning, and he is buried in law books up to his ears. “Marissa told me the Archbishop came and made you a visit. I asked her if there was anything I could do and she told me food was needed.”

“You really should stop looking after us and start living your life, woman.” He snoops in the anonymous bag, and stops and stares at you as he sees, and smells, it fragrant content. “Hang on. Are those Pio’s calamari? Because if they are, I could actually marry you.”

“Flattery’s going to bring you far in live, Mister Colòn. Anyway, yes, they are indeed Pio’s calamari- good, still, I’m much more of a Bocuherie kind of gal myself. ” You snicker. He puts the box of calamari and the one with the fries on the table, and you share – at least the fries. “So, I gather the chat with the archbishop didn’t go too well…”

He sighs, shaking his head. “He thinks no one should try to defend our client. That we should leave him to rot in prison, and, well, the hell with him.”

He is troubled- not only the archbishop used to be is priest back when he was a young man growing up, but he thought they were… well, friends. And now, after having argued, after having been lectured… he feels like he has a heavy burden on his shoulder.

“You know, when I was growing up, I never thought I would have stayed a Catholic my whole life.” He lifts an eyebrow, quizzically. “Maybe it’s because Beth is half orthodox, or because she used to tell me about how their priest would never go to bless her great-grandmother’s home during WWI because she’d never go to church as she was a widow with six young children.”

He dares to smirk. “Do you ever run out of stories about your family?”

“Pretty sure I could write an entire TV shows with what I know.” you steal a fry, and quickly eat it. “Is it really that bad?”

“If things keep going this way, it’s a matter of how long he’ll spend in jail for something he didn’t do. Fifteen? Twenty? Twenty five?” He takes a big breath, and plays with a calamari ring, not lifting his eyes from the bag, and shakes his head. His mouth is a strong, hard line.. “He may very well spend the rest of his life in jail, and the archdioceses doesn’t care.”

He pauses. “I’m sorry. I’ve never been too good at dividing the catholic from the lawyer.”

“Yeah,” you lean your cheek over your pal, elbow on his desk. “I remember a discussion just like that.”

He nods. “Back then, it was about a guy who had helped his girlfriend commit suicide. This is different, but Father Andy, he hasn’t done anything wrong.”

“I’m sure you’ll  
think of  
something.” You stand up, and squeeze his shoulder with your  
clean hand before  
leaving


	58. 3.11 Separate Together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I just had the worst car drive ever. Diana made me sit between her and Bull. It was so awful I told Bull to drop me off at the subway. I swear, I felt like…”  
> “Like mummy and daddy were arguing over the divorce and you were the baby kid switched between the two of them and used and emotionally abused at their own consume? Welcome to my world, babe. And that of all the kids of divorced people.”

“Is that _chocolate?”_ you ask Benny as he leaves a box of chocolate on your desk and you roll your eyes. 

“Yep.” He collapses in the chair in front of yours, head thrown back, sighing. “Please, tell me you’ve got a drink hidden in that desk of yours?”

You snicker. “What did you take me for, a primate?” You take a bottle of scotch out of a drawer, together with two glasses. “ _Of course_ I keep emergency drinks in my desk, honey.”

“Oh thank God.” He swallows his drink in one sole gulp, and then asks for another, eating a chocolate wafer while he waits for you to refill. “I just had the worst car drive _ever._ Diana made me sit between her and Bull. It was so awful I told Bull to drop me off at the subway. I swear, I felt like…”

“Like mummy and daddy were arguing over the divorce and you were the baby kid switched between the two of them and used and emotionally abused at their own consume?” You chuckle, sipping carefully your drink. You roll your wrist, the amber liquid dancing in elegant waves in the glass. You sigh. Ice would have been a nice addition. “Welcome to my world, baby. And that of all the kids of divorced people.” 

“It’s awful.” His eyes are already glassy. And he barely had… how many, three drinks? Smirking, you take the glass back, moving it away from him. “They were talking about the case, but I don’t think they truly were. I think she called Bull a Randy- pretty sure it means he is someone she doesn’t like. Just not sure why. Unless it’s… do you think it’s about sex? You once said that whenever Bull does something stupid, it’s always, _always_ about sex.”

“Time to cut you off, counselor.” You steal one of the sweet threats. “Ehy, I have to leave anyway. Want to share a cab? An uber?”

“A cab.” He nods, smirking. “I don’t trust uber drivers. Never trust someone you meet on the net, young girl.”

“You know that I’m actually older than you, right?” You smile at him, your chin over your joined hands, elbows on the desk. 

“Yeah…” In silence, Benny looks at you with something you can’t really put your finger on- it’s longing, maybe, or sadness… or maybe, just maybe, he is just really lost in his own world. “Why are you here at this time? You should be home, and be drinking this magnificent scotch in the company of a man who truly appreciates you. Who wants to cherish every inch and every thought of yours.”

“Look who’s talking. Aren’t you supposed to have a girlfriend somewhere out there?” You lift an eyebrow, quizzically.

“Nah.” He sighs, and looks at you, as he was studying you, or thinking deeply about his next words. “Wasn’t really going to work out in the long run. I think I need someone… steadier. Wiser. Less crazy.” 

You smile, hide the scotch and put the box of chocolates together with it. “C’mon, counselor, time to go home!”


	59. 3.12 Split Hair

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Someone must have switched the evidence. I know Julia Martin, she is bitchy, she has an attitude, she is very, very hard to work with- take it from someone who actually worked with her a few times - but she doesn’t go around planting evidence.”

“Hi. Is Bull in there? I’ll be in just a minute. It’s about the Chainsaws estate. And that woman who says she got a kid with the late Mister Chainsaw? I’ll be quick, just in and out!” When you enter TAC and cross paths with Marissa, you don’t even say hi, you just waltz into Bull’s office and close the door behind you. 

He’s at his desk, glasses lifted over his head, massaging his eyes as he tries to get a read of this whole situation, and you sit before him, as still and rigid as a state, in silence. You barely gives him the folders, and he doesn’t even bother to check on them. “Is it about Chainsaws? You could have left those with Marissa, or Chunk.” 

You bite your lips, and don’t say a word. 

“Yes?” He asks you, rolling his eyes. 

You shake your head. Lower your voice. “Malford’s lawyer went to four different labs to get the air retested. Horizon is one of them. One of my technicians did the analysis. And I know that I shouldn’t be talking with you because I’m practically on Malford’s payroll, but if I were to talk about the case, I’d tell you that I know that what they suggest is just impossible. Someone must have switched the evidence. I _know_ Julia Martin, she is bitchy, she has an attitude,she is very, very hard to work with- take it from someone who _actually_ worked with her a few times - but she doesn’t go around planting evidence.”

He takes you for the shoulders, and drag you out, right at the elevator. “We are _not_ talking about this case. We can’t have you been disgraced, and we can’t have this case being thrown out because we work together and you can’t help but keep your damn mouth open!” He hisses at you. 

The doors of the elevator closes before you, and you pout, arms crossed. You know Julia- she is weird, a bit paranoid, hard to work with, and she doesn’t like collaborating. _Bu_ t she wouldn’t play with evidence. She just have her own idiosyncrasies. And it’s not like you are any better – you listen to hard rock to concentrate, she’d rather perform an autopsy when she is all alone in the morgue. 

With your involvement in the case, you can’t help her, nor Bull, in any way. Still, it hurts. Putting her on the grill wouldn’t help anyone- the opposite. You huff, hitting lightly your back against the elevator wall.

This is food for your thoughts- but for another day. 


	60. 3.13 Prior Bad Acts

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Benny… go home. Go be with your family.” You whisper, all but a breath away from him. and that’s when it happens.   
> He whispers your name as it was a prayer, a plea, and the breath dies in your throat; you leave out an half-chocked moan as you see Benny’s eyes fall, insistent, onto your mouth. He lick his lips as you start playing unconsciously with his hair, unable to take you gaze off of him. As he descends on you, his nose brushing yours, you fight to keep your eyes open, battling with heavy lids, wanting to see, to witness, this moment you’ve been waiting for, for so long.

You are sitting at one of the side desks of TAC when Benny leaves the elevator, and goes straight to Bull’s office. Just a look and you know something is wrong- his whole demeanor, the way he seems to try and pull himself together… Besides, you are pretty sure you heard him sniff. And, in almost twenty years, you are quite sure you never saw him cry.

You know, deep in your heart, that something is very wrong, so, when he enters Bull’s still vacant office, you follow him, and you found your friend – the man you’ve been enamored with for far longer than you like to admit – leaning against the windows, looking down at the Hudson River. 

Silently, you approach him, almost scared to make even just a sound, and when you reach him, you can’t help but see each and every tears running down his features- he’s crying, in silence, his lips in a tight line, and you are pretty sure you’ve never seen him so pained, that you’ve never wanted to comfort someone so badly, kiss his tears away.

But you don’t. You just squeeze his shoulder, and you just gasp, when he suddenly turn, and he hugs you- takes you in his arms, holding onto you like for dear life, and he cries in your hair, and as much as you wanted to sob into his pristine white shirt, you don’t- he needs someone strong, to hold onto you- almost as you were his anchor.

It feels like an endless time before he finally parts from you. His head low, he is still sniffing lightly, his hands squeezing your biceps almost painfully as you cup his neck with yours, your thumbs drawing imaginary circles over his heated skin, feeling under your fingertips his unsteady heartbeat.

“Sorry. Sorry. I…” He closes his eyes, inhales and exhales deeply a few times, then he looks into your eyes, still not letting you go. “Izzie called me while I was in the elevator. She went to see our dad, and… she said… she doesn’t think it was painful. He probably didn’t even see it coming. He was…smiling.”

“I’m so sorry, Benny. I know how much you were bound.”

“It’s just that… I never thought about him dying, you know? Even after my mum… it just seemed so… I don’t know.” He makes a strange, chocking sound- half cry, half laughter. “It’s just that… we are so alone now. No mom. Non dad. No wife, no kids or nephews. Just my sister. It’s… I’m suddenly feeling lonely.”

“No, Benny, honey, you are not alone.You’ve got Izzie. And Bull. And me. And all of us, really. Family… family is what you make of people, all right? It goes way beyond blood.” You shake your head, sighing, almost moved to tears by his statement, by the deep sadness within his words. “Listen… why don’t you go to be with Izzie? I’ll tell Bull what happened. He liked Diego- he’ll understand.”

But he shakes his head. “No, no… I just… need a couple of minutes to pull myself together. I know everything there is to know about our next meeting.” 

“Benny… go home. Go be with your family.” You whisper, all but a breath away from him. and that’s when it happens. 

He whispers your name as it was a prayer, a plea, and the breath dies in your throat; you leave out an half-chocked moan as you see Benny’s eyes fall, insistent, onto your mouth.He lick his lips as you start playing unconsciously with his hair, unable to take you gaze off of him. As he descends on you, his nose brushing yours, you fight to keep your eyes open, battling with heavy lids, wanting to see, to witness, this moment you’ve been waiting for, for so long. 

“What the hell is going on?” You hear Bull’s infuriated and pissed off voice before actually seeing him, and that’s a good thing, because it gives you and Benny time to part. With your boss and friend in the same room as you two, you and Benny look at each other, shocked, surprised… almost scared. “I’m sorry, am I interrupting something?”

“Uh, I think I’ll take my leave.” You walk past Bull, stopping next to him long enough to mouth the words _be nice._

You walk to your desk and collapse onto it, without saying anything to anyone, and, pretending to read, you wonder what the hell had just happened- and what the hell it means.


	61. 3.14 Leave It All Behind

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Do you know what one of my superiors used to say, back when I briefly worked robbery homicide a few years back? It’s the husband, remember, it’s always the husband. Good old Louis, he hasn’t retired yet. Pushing eighty and still behind a desk because he doesn’t want to give a penny of his pension to wife number two and three.”   
> “You sound just like Benny.”

“Do you know what one of my superiors used to say, back when I briefly worked robbery homicide a few years back? _It’s the husband, remember, it’s always the husband._ Good old Louis, he hasn’t retired yet. Pushing eighty and still behind a desk because he doesn’t want to give a penny of his pension to wife number two and three.” You leave a folder on Bull’s desk, arms crossed.

“You sound just like Benny. He told me that all of his years in the DA’S office, every time a woman disappeared or was killed, it was almost always the husband. Almost,” he lifts his glasses, and smirks a bit meek at you. “being the magical word.” 

You sigh, hands over your hips, and take a step further toward your friend. “Jase, we’ve known each other since college… our whole adult life. It’s been, what? Twenty five years?” He nods. “And in those twenty-five years, how many times did we have lunch, dinner together, or just grabbed the phone to talk or rant about this or that?”

He snorts. “Are you seriously asking me _a number?_ I don’t know. Two, three times a week.”

“Considering an average of two times a week, I’d be 2600 times- but let’s be honest, it’s way more than that because now that I consult for you, we practically see each other every other day!” You hiss, a bit annoyed.

“Your point?” He asks you, lifting an eyebrow. 

“My point,” You say, exasperated, “is that you’ve had dinner with this man twice in the last twenty years. You don’t know everything there’s to know about me when we’ve been in each other’s lives full time all these years, how can you expect to _know_ this guy?”

“I know that his story sounds very…. Suspicious and convenient, but I’m telling you, I know him.”

“Right. Like you knew he had an open marriage and they slept with whoever they fancied.” You sigh, arms still crossed. “Jase, open marriages, they don’t work. It’s just a thing people say, but eventually, someone gets upset. Jealous. Falls for someone else. You’ve heard her phone call. Was your friend going to divorce his wife, he’d have walked away with, well, pretty much nothing at all. But now he is the widower of one of the greatest author of fantasy novels of our times, the creator of a character who spans books, movies, merchandise of all kinds.”

“I’m telling you, it’s _no_ t always the husband.” He calmly repeats, spelling the words as you were a kid who didn’t want to listen.

“Yep. And, by chance, his DNA was on the murder weapon, there was no sign of forced entry and he doesn’t have a solid alibi for the time of death. Right. All circumstantial, still…”

He sighs, scratching lazily the back of his head. “Yeah. I know. You trust my instincts, but maybe I should play may cards close to the vest, this one time. I get it, but I think you may be biased on this one.”

He doesn’t look at your face. To an outsider, it would have looked like he was starting at your boobs, but you know the truth. It’s what around your neck that he is staring at. 

Your cross. 

“Seriously? Are we really doing this again? Because I’m a catholic and I think you shouldn’t be married if you can’t even pretend to be faithful? I’m sorry, I don’t get it, and neither will a jury.”

“I’m sorry.” He pinches his nose. “I’m sorry, okay? What else do you want me to say? My friend may spend the rest of his life in prison, and I really think he didn’t do it.”

“Well, it’s not over until it’s not over, right?”You chuckle lightly, and leave him alone to dwell in his misery. 


	62. 3.15 Security Fraud

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “It’s life, Jase. Biology. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the greatest legal mind of the last century.”

“You should really eat something.” Jason’s been playing with the food in his plate, looking at it at little lost. Sitting at the café, next to him, you almost feel guilty that you are almost done. 

“I’m just so sorry. It’s so sad what’s happening to Franklin…”

You sigh, moving your empty plate aside. “It’s life, Jase. Biology. Nothing lasts forever. Not even the greatest legal mind of the last century.”

“I know, still…” he looks at you, arms crossed over the counter. “Still, it’s sad. I’m just glad we at least got to give him one last day in court. You should have seen him. It was like, well, his old self.”

“Going away roaring into the night, uh?” You sip your beer, chuckling, and elbow Jason in the side. “Have to tell you, man- I’m pretty sure this is how you are going to walk the finish line.” 

“Walk? Please. I’d never walk the finishing line. I _run._ ” He laughs, trying to ruffle your hairs like when you were younger.


	63. 3.16 Forfeiture

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> . “Missing meat already?”  
> “Oh, trust me, if you’d seen what I saw, you would have sworn off meat, too.”

“You should really change your habits, you know?” All the lights in your office are off, minus the lamp on your desk, that illuminates in chiaroscuro your features and your computer. Taking your glasses off, you sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. You jump, an hand over your heart, when you hear Benny’s voice- you haven’t noticed that he was there, on your doorstep, looking at you. “Sorry, didn’t mean to scare you. But, I brought you gifts. Dinner – I bet you didn’t have any yet.”

“You know me oh so well, counselor.” He takes the few steps separating him from your desk, and, from a bah, he produces napkins and placemats, and then, from another, containers of food. At closed eyes, you inhale the fragrant scent, blissfully moaning as Benny chuckles. “Oh, God, did you go to the Bocuherie? I just _love_ their kitchen- Beth says it’s almost as good as real French cooking.”

“Vegetarian Nicoise salad for you _and_ burger and fries for me.” 

You start picking at your salad, while Benny shamelessly and almost pornographically eat his fries. “Missing meat already?”

“Oh, trust me, if you’d seen what I saw, you would have sworn off meat, too.” You chuckle, shaking your head. You freeze, shivering a little as you remember the day you swore off meat, when you visited for a case a butcher many years before. “No, I was actually wondering why you went for a burger with all those  [ _ délices _ ](https://context.reverso.net/traduzione/francese-italiano/d%C3%A9lices) _culinaires._ ” You lean towards his side of the desk, your forehead almost touching his nose, and you steal a fry, laughing. 

“Diverting my attention while waiting to steal my fries. Smart woman. I like it.” He smiles, and puts the small carton of fries between you two, so that you could share.

“You know, I kind of like it here, at this time. It’s… quiet. Peaceful.”He sighs, looks around. “I kind of envy you.”

You chuckle, a little darkly. “Well, it’s not like I really have anything else to do. What should I do, go back home to an empty house? At least here, I’m useful.”

“Ehy, you are plenty of useful, and not just because of work. I mean, look at me. At Bull. Whenever we need someone to talk to, someone to listen, yours it’s the first name coming to mind. Always.” He smiles, clicking his tongue, and squeezes gently your hand. “By the way, I’ve got a little surprise for you. A thank-you gift, if you want. For being my relief valve.” From the bag containing your food, Benny produces a small white box, and two plastic forks. 

“Is that… a Tarte Tatin? How did you get it? I thought it wasn’t available for take-out!” You cheer with childish enthusiasm.

“Well, you once told me you and Beth often goes there, so I asked the server if you had any guilty pleasure. She added this to my order, says it’s your favorite and it would have made you happy.”

“You are really a good friend, Benjamin Colòn.” At closed eyes, you moan in bliss as you feel the butter melting against your tongue, awaking your taste buds. “Oh, they know me oh so well there….”

“Yeah,” he swallows, looking at your blissfully unaware expression, his fork mid-air, his voice so low it feels like he is mumbling between himself. “Yeah. A good friend. Good. Nice. That’s what I always wanted- to be your _good_ friend.”

“Uh?” you ask, but he grins, shaking his head as it didn’t matter. “Listen, I know you are mad with Chunk, but, don’t. He’s green. He’s bound to make mistakes and act a little recklessly. I bet you were just like that when you started off at the DA’s office. Matter of fact, _I know_ you were just like that. Disrupting authority, acting recklessly and believing you’re the best at what you do, that you are the smartest person in the room, we all do that, sooner or later. Hell, I think I still do that sometimes. Of course, QI speaking, I usually _am_ the smartest person in the room, so…”

Laughing, he feeds you the latest piece of cake, just to shout you up. 

.


	64. 3.17 Parental Guidance

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Have you ever thought about adoption? Or even just being a foster parent?”  
> “Right. Because a single woman, workaholic, of my age, has oh so many chances of getting to foster a child. Sorry Mar, but I don’t think I’m the system’s favorite kind of candidate.”   
> “I got adopted when I was ten, and I was a difficult kid. Not a lot of parents want to handle that. But you could. Trust me. I just know it. Besides, who says you’ll be single for the rest of your life? Maybe the love of your life is just in the next room and you just don’t know it yet.”

“And _this_ should be the last folder – I’ve already gotten the evidence back to the State.” As you hand over the last folder of the Schweiger case over to Marissa with your findings (which agree with what the Crime Scene Investigators and the detectives already wrote in their reports) you look at your friend. She doesn’t seem to want to leave. She stays there, folders on your desk, one hand over them, the other at her side, biting her lips- an indication that something is on her mind. “Penny for your thoughts?”

She sighs, picking at her fingernails and watching now at you, then at her feet just to move back to you. And then, she drops the proverbial bombshell on you. “Have ever thought about kids? When, you know, when you were married, I mean.”

You half-turn, leaning on the edge of your desk, and for the longest time you keep quiet. “We did. And… I’ve been. A mom, I mean. Well, a mom-to-be, actually. Just for a couple of months. And then… Then I wasn’t any longer.”

With her heart breaking in two at the sight of you, sensing the distress she pout you through, Marissa gently rubs your shoulder. “Oh, honey….”

You sniff, biting your lips, then, you wipe away your years, rubbing your eyes and smashing mascara all over your face. “That’s ok. I was at the very beginning. It happens, every now and then. But… after that… I just couldn’t. Noah didn’t push the issue and I was glad for it, and then my marriage kind of fell apart and by then I was… _relieved_ that there wasn’t a kid around to make him an awful husband _and_ an even worse father. And afterwards… well, I’m getting old, and even if I was any younger, I kind of lack the other part of the equation.”

“Bull never said…” she starts, but you shake your head. 

“He doesn’t know. This has been kind of my big secret. He and Izzy had lost their baby, and I didn’t want to…. Besides,in case you didn’t notice, I don’t handle pity so well, so….” you sniff one more time, then, you try to get a grip. “Why the sudden interest in my maternity expectations?”

She sighs, mimicking your position at your side. “After my divorce, I froze my eggs, and now the clinic called to know if I want to keep them or if I want to donate them or destroy them and he is asking all kind of questions and he wanted to know, at ten at night, if I want to be a mum.”

You snicker. “Well, it’s not like you can just have children through conception nowadays. You shouldn’t have to get obsessed over this. I mean, you got adopted when you were ten, right? Why not adopting a child yourself, too?”

“Have you?” she shoves you, smiling. “Have you ever thought about adoption? Or even just being a foster parent?”

You roll your eyes. “Right. Because a single woman, workaholic, of my age, has oh so many chances of getting to foster a child. Sorry Mar, but I don’t think I’m the system’s favorite kind of candidate.” 

“I got adopted when I was _ten,”_ she underlines. “And I was a difficult kid. Not a lot of parents want to handle that. But _you_ could. Trust me. I just know it. Besides, who says you’ll be single for the rest of your life? Maybe the love of your life is just in the next room and you just don’t know it yet.”

Suddenly, there’s a knock at your door, and both you and Marissa fall silent, staring with eyes as huge as saucers at the door,when whoever is on the other side knocks again. “Come…. In?” you says, not too sure of yourself, swallowing, as the thought that Marissa could be a psych, could have felt that your destiny is at the other side of your door for real.

“Hello, gorgeous ladies. I was wondering if you had any good news for me, because I really don’t know what to do with this case.” Benny chuckles, looking at your silence with a lifted eyebrow. You stare at him, Marissa stares at you and _then_ at him and then she giggles, almost jumping on her too tiny shoes.

“Oh. My. God. I can’t believe I didn’t think of it sooner! It’s… it’s perfect!”

“No,” you lift your finger. “Nope, get it out of your head, all right. No. Nope. No way.”

“Did I… interrupt something?” he asks, looking to the two of you. “Is it about the case?”

“Oh, C’mon, I’m sure….” She is about to say something- and she is about to say something to Benny (something in the line of, _I think she has the hots for you)_ when you throw the folders in her hands and push your friend out of your office. “Nope. Too late. Time to go back to work. Data to analyze and reports to study! Go!”

As you face him, blushing, arranging a rebel stray of hair behind you ear, both of Benny’s eyebrow are lifted, quizzically, wondering what had just happened. “So…’”

“So…” You clear your voice, blushing, making Benny smirk. “So, I looked at the guns, and, bad news, only Lucas fired. But, I was thinking, not everything is lost.”


	65. 3.18 Don't Say A Word

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Ah, knew you were still at work- first to get there, always the last one to leave, eh?”  
> “Says the guy who’s calling me at, uh, what it is, ten? And don’t try and pretend it’s not about work, because we both know it’d be a blatant lie on your side, counselor.” You tsk-tsk him, smirking a little.   
> “Technically, it’s about Bull, not really work. Not totally about work. Just a little. Ok, a lot.”

Your phone rings when it’s already late at night- almost eleven.The light or your desk lightly illuminates your screen, enveloping you in chiaroscuro, while you see the New York City skyline from your glass windows. Lights and lights and lights- and no stars to speak of. Not in New York City, with too much light pollution. 

You lift an eyebrow, groaning with frustration, as you answers your cordless, gently and rhythmically tapping with your fingers – _tap, tap, tap, tap –_ on your desk. 

“Ah, knew you were still there- first to get there, always the last one to leave, eh?” Benny chuckles, ending the sentence with the longest sigh you’ve ever heard.

“Says the guy who’s calling me at, uh, what it is, ten? And don’t try and pretend it’s not about work, because we both know it’d be a blatant lie on your side, counselor.” You tsk-tsk him, smirking a little. Almost as you were there with him. 

“Technically, it’s about Bull, not really work. Not totally about work. Just a little. A lot.” He sighs. Again. “With Bull, it’s kind of hard to know where the private starts and the work finishes, you know?”

You sigh. “Yeah. I know a little about that. So, what did he do this time?” You ask without preamble. You know your boy, as the old saying goes. 

On the other sideof the line, Benny stays quiet for the longest time – so long that you even wonder if, despite not heralding the tell-tale sound of the line going dead, you somehow lost him.

“All right. Cat’s gonna be out of the bag anyway. He got the case from _Diana Lindsay_ , of all people.” He practically hisses the name between clenched teeth.

You lift _both_ eyebrows, quizzically. “So, she’s your second chair or something like that?” Strange that Bull didn’t tell you- whenever he and Diana meet a romantic impasse, it’s you Bull ask for advice (as you were an expert, with your sorry excuse of a romantic life).

“Nope. Her firm actually works for _the other side._ She even used to defend the opposing counsel. She got him off for the murder of his ex-wife. And then, she called us in because she thinks he is guilty and she didn’t want to see those girls growing up with a murderer.”

You tense, sitting straight, on your faux leather chair. “Has anyone found out already?”

From the way he sighs, you already know the answer. “The judge went for a mistrial, and Diana may get suspended. Maybe even disbarred.” 

You don’t say a word- neither of you does. “Benny, don’t judge her. You’d done the same thing.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know.” You can imagine him, scratching the back of his head, lazily smiling- that’s how well you know him now. “Frankly, I’d hate to be in her shoes, but I get it. It’s Bull I’m kind of annoyed with – I asked him how he got the case, and he could have told me the truth. I am the firm’s lawyer, I would have found it wrong, but, but I would have looked at, at everything, and I would have gotten it. I really would. I wouldn’t have said _a_ _word_. To anyone. Doesn’t matter how wrong it was. Also because Diana simply called us. She never told us if she found him guilty, if she had told him anything. She never provided damning evidence. Nothing!”

You put Benny on speakerphone, and you snuggle up on your huge chair. You close your eyes, sighing, wishing to be back home with a huge glass of Merlot – either an Amuse Bouche from Napa or a Castello d’ Ama from Tuscany – and bite your lips. “I have to say, I can’t condone how you got the case, but I think Diana got the best of intentions. She was just thinking about the girls.”

“Yeah, I know, I know.” He sighs. “All right. I’m finishing some paperwork and then I’m off to sleep- first thing tomorrow morning, I’m heading to the courthouse and filling for a new custody trial. Which we’ll probably loose, but maybe that will buy us some time and we’ll get some rock solid evidence we don’t know of yet.” 

“All right. Good Night. And don’t get too mad with Bull.”

“I won’t. Goodnight.” The line clicks, and then, on speakerphone, you listen to the rhythmic sound of the line gone dead. As you stare at the sky, you sigh. 

Going home to an empty apartment doesn’t possess any kind of appeal.


	66. 3.19 Bounty

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Do you know how much the City of New York paid for Police Misconduct last year alone? Almost 69 million. If he did something wrong, he has to pay somehow. The fact he used to wear a shield doesn’t mean everything should be forgiven and forgotten.”

“What do you make of this friend of Danny?” sitting cross-legged on your couch in your office at Horizon late at night, you go through what files you have on this case, looking at the evidence reports you’ve been provided with, every once in a while eating some popcorns. Benny sits on your favorite chair-an IKEA Poang you brought from home- and opens up a beer for you. 

You shrug, like saying, _meh._ “Kind of hard to say. I mean, I don’t blame him. I know a lot of cops that, after going undercover, forgot how not to be undercover. Happens to the best of us. Still, if, back when I had a badge, I’d arrested the wrong guy, someone would have paid. With jail time, or at least with money. Do you know how much the City of New York paid for Police Misconduct last year alone? Almost 69 million. If he did something wrong, he has to pay somehow. The fact he used to wear a shield doesn’t mean everything should be forgiven and forgotten.”

“I don’t know. Thirty years, seems a bit of a stretch to me. Besides, this guy is willing to pay what’s necessary- bills, comfort money, anything really. And a cop in jail? You know how long a cop lasts in jail, right?”

You lift an eyebrow, smirking. “No judge is going to condemn your client for thirty years. This kid is just looking out for the spotlight, knowing all too well what it would mean for her career winning against the world-famous Dr. Jason Bull of TAC fame. That, and she wants all of you to know that she isn’t scared of going against the guys with one of highest rate of success in the country.”

“Is that you roundabout way of complimenting me? Because if it is, flattery is going to bring you very far in life,doc.”

“It’s not flattery if it’s true, besides, I’m not complimenting you, more like… _you all_. together. Don’t get me wrong, Jason’s always been good at this whole jury whisper thing, but the whole thing came around because he’s built this… this team, this family, around himself, picking people he knewhe could work with well, which, trust me, it’s not as easy as one may think.”

“Still, it’s not like he choose me. I just… happened.I was family.”

You groan. “If he didn’t liked you, he wouldn’t have asked you to join him, wouldn’t have allowed you to be an in-house counselor full-time. You may have been an accident, but, still, happy accidents happen. And I like to think that, without each other, you wouldn’t work out that well on your own. I mean, have ever picked out a client in your own, since you took the bar? You wouldn’t know where to start.”

“Now I feel slightly insulted, doc.” He chuckles, pointing a finger at you. Still, he grins.

You grimace. “Please, don’t. Anything but doc.”

“As you wish, _babe.”_ You actually smile at the silly nickname, and you bite your lips. You pretend to ponder the case, whenyou are merely thinking about the man with you. Ever since his father’s passing, when Benny has almost kissed you in Bull’s office, there’s been some kind of… electricity between the two of you. You know it, he knows it, you both feel it, and yet none of you is acting on whatever there is going on between you two- being it affection or merely attraction, you are not quite sure. “What are you thinking about?” he asks you, awakening you from your reverie. 

You look at the pictures of the injuries on the man caught by Danny’s bounty-hunter friend. “So, Danny’s friend, the bounty hunter? He’s been out of job for a while, right? And he isn’t in the same shape he used to be back when he was with the FBI. And yet, he got the better hand on this guy? _A firefighter?”_

“Uh. You think everything seems too much convenient?”

You sigh, throwing the picture on the table, at Benny. “I say that you and the guys have a way of finding out the truth.”


	67. 3.20 The Good One

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’m sorry,” he opens his arms wide, still sitting in his chair. “Are you actually calling me a stupid?”  
> “Stupid? No, but naïve? Yes. This kid isn’t the saint everybody is picturing him to be. If he was, he would have gone off to be himself, left his family name behind and started afresh somewhere far away from here. Don’t tell me that it wasn’t useful for him carrying the McCandless name growing up.” You spat, venomously.

“I’m here to hereby inform you that Horizon Labs decline to assist TAC in the case of The United States of America against Connor McCandless, as we are not in the habit of assisting career criminals and murderers.”

As you stay in front of Jason, arms crossed and with a stare that would kill a zombie, he sighs, scratching the back of his head. “I know it looks bad, but we are not assisting a career criminal- we are assisting _the other_ kid, the one who wants to be a doctor and actually _save_ people, not killing them.” 

“I didn’t leave the Police to _lose,_ Jase. And I didn’t leave the Force so that I could help the people I sued to put behind bars. So, no, I’m not interested, and before you remember me that I’m just part of a company, I had a lengthy conversation with Hernandez and Sonia last night, and we’re not particularly interested into helping a crime boss and his family escape justice. Besides, from what little I know, there’s not a lot to do- he admitted being on the crime scene, he was driving the gateway car, his brother was found with the murder weapon in his pocket in said car.” You say pointing each items on this imaginary list on your hand with a finger. 

“He said he didn’t know what his brother wanted to do.”

You groan. “Right. Talking with the judge going against a major mob boss. What could his brother may have wanted to do,talkingabout the weather, or dogs? Maybe he just wanted to have tea with the guy who was about to put their father away for life!”

“Sarcasm is the lowest for of wit.” 

“Or the highest form of intelligence and the body natural defense mechanism against the stupidity of the majority of the species.” You smirk, devilish.

“I’m sorry,” he opens his arms wide, still sitting in his chair. “Are you actually calling me a stupid?”

“Stupid? No, but naïve? Yes. This kid isn’t the saint everybody is picturing him to be. If he was, he would have gone off to be himself, left his family name behind and started afresh somewhere faraway from here. Don’t tell me that it wasn’t useful for him carrying the McCandless name growing up.” You spat, venomously. 

“He is a mama’s boy, just doing what his mother asked him to- being there for his brother to stop him from doing anything stupid.” Heslowly says, low voice as he was talking with an idiot, as you didn’t get what he was saying. Which only infuriates you furthermore. He isn’t listening to you, or respecting your opinion at all. 

“And we saw how everything came out roses, right?” You chuckle a bit darkly, shaking your head.

Looking you up and down, Jason sighs. “This boy didn’t choose his father, he shouldn’t be on trial just for his name. Besides, what happened to innocent until proven guilty? I thought you believed in the system!” He says, trying to convince you that there’s something god in all of this, that this should be your good action. That, by abandoning Connor, you’d be doing a huge mistake.

“I believe in science and evidences, smartass, and science and evidences say that Connor was on the crime scene when the Judge was being killed, that he was driving the gateway car and that his brother was carrying the murder weapon.” You repeat again. He may be trying to prove you that you are doing a mistake, but, still, you want him to understand how utterly stupid accepting this case would be. He would be the death of his career, of his company, and were he to loose, he would be on the McCandless’ cross-hair, which usually translates into a coffin.

Still, hedoesn’t seem to want to budge, which means you’ve got only one last card to play, you realize lifting an eyebrow, quizzically. And, tell me, what does Benny and the others think of this brilliant idea of yours?”

He sighs, playing with his fingers, tapping against his desk. He stays in silence for the longest time, and you know what it means- he is restive to admit the truth out loud: nobody is happy with this case, and you can imagine Benny, how difficult it may be for him, as a former persecutor, turning a blind eye to the fact that this young man is, indeed, part of a notorious crime family, despite the whole _everybody deserves a defense_ and _innocent until proven guilty_ thing. 

“Honey, he didn’t pick his family. Didn’t choose who his father was. He was just there because his mum asked him to.” He says again. But the fact that he is asking you to put the fact that no child is like their father doesn’t go unnoticed. You know the kind of game Jason is playing, what he is trying to make you admit. Neither of you is like your parents, and your fathers in particular are figures both you and Jason have tried hard to distance yourself from in the years- his a conman, yours a cold cheater with more women than changes of underwear. 

Without further ado, you turn tail, pouting annoyed. You don’t reply, knowing all too well that Jason would just keep hammering you until you’d agree to take the case, to help them out. 

At the door, you suddenly stop, and, icy, you look at him, actually stumping your feet like a three years old. “If any of us will be called on the stand, we’ll tell everything the evidence will state, no matter in what light it will put your client, no matter what narrative you’ll try to sell.”

“Wouldn’t aspect any different from any of you.” He grins, knowing he has won, and slightly shakes his head, amused- too amused. It’s the last proverbial drop, and you can’t see straight any longer, because it’s one thing winning, and a whole other being smug about it. 

With eyes as huge as saucers, your mouth in a straight line and flaming cheeks, you slam the door shout at your passage, the glass rattling and slightly cracking- and if it’s broken, well, Jason can all but forget you’d even think about paying back.Some things shouldn’t be even spoken of, and he should have known any better. 


	68. 3.21 When The Rains Came

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “C’mon, it’d be awful to waste such a nice dress for that idiot. I say, let’s hit either The Bocuherie or Pio’s, best case scenario we get a table, have really good food with some really great wines in a place where you aren’t judged by anybody, or, worse case scenario, I say we get some takeout there, reheat it at my place, and drink artisanal beer on my couch while we listen to Marcus Miller’s latest album.”  
> You let him help you into your jacket, and smile as you tie your belt. “How do you know I like jazz?”  
> As he offers

“You make house calls now, counselor?” You smirk as you lightly kick your Flottebo couch in your office at Horizon, where Benny is currently laying down, hands crossed over his stomach as he stares at the ceiling. It’s already late, it’s night, and neither of you should be here, yet, here you are, and you can’t help but try to lighten the mood – what else are you supposed to do, after all, when you receive a text from your friend/colleague/object of your desires and sordid dreams/crush, asking you if you feel like chatting at your office to clear his head?

Still, when you see that Benny is still wearing that deadly serious and extremely worried expression, the smirk vanishes from your features, and you sigh, a bit worried. “That bad, uh?”

“I, I know that people doesn’t usually sympathize with inmates, but, three days? And people _died!”_

Biting your lips, you sit at his feet, not really appreciating that he has his shoes on _your_ couch – it may not be fancy, but it’s a piece of furniture you are quite fond of. “So, nobody cares, and they are putting the blame on the little guy, on the low man on the totem pole, right?”

“Yep. Among other things” He nods, sighing heavily. Her closes his eyes, and you see the dark circles, the shadows over his features. He just doesn’t look tired- both emotionally and physically- but also, suddenly, older. And with too much weight on his shoulders. You move your hand like on autopilot, tentative fingers barely resisting scratching his scalp. “I don’t know how to keep this guy out of prison, and I don’t know how long an ex-prison guard would last in jail. They can’t keep him in solitary for the whole duration of his sentence. Sooner or later he’d be with the general population, and….”

“And all hell would break loose.” You finish for him. 

“Yah.” He says, jumping from his position and sitting at your side, head low, hands on his knees. “And you should see Taylor. Poor girl. I don’t envy her.”

You squeeze your eyes, wondering what he may be talking about- you aren’t on the case, which means you don’t know the particulars, just what little has transpired from the media, and both Benny and Bull would rather cut an arm off than breaking client confidentiality. Trying to smirk, he shakes his head and waves, as to say, _don’t mind what I’m saying._

“Eh. I just hope that with the warden’s testimony and with a decent closing argument, we may get at least same leniency, but, still, it all depends on what the other side will say and ask, and, I’m kind of at a loss here.” He scratches his head, sighing. “I’m at a loss about a lot of things lately.” He stretches the _“o”_ for what appear a long time, as to underline it.

“Work? I know how hard working with Bull may be. We were _always_ paired up back in college.” You say, looking at your hands as you pick at a cuticle, trying to joke about something you f _eel_ is serious _,_ but Benny shakes his head, and, for the first time since the beginning of this conversation, he searches for your eyes. 

“I think Izzie may be having problems, only, I can’t really say because she’s been blocking my calls. Which she never did, not even back when she and Jason divorced.” He turns to look at you, and he squints his eyes as he studies you, suddenly taking in your appearance – you’re wearing an off-shoulder burgundy dress with a floating skirt, but what _really_ grabs his attention are the shoes- open toes pumps in suede, the same color as the dress, with a metallic stiletto heel that would be considered a weapon in many states (he lightly smirks, recognizing them as the pair you wore at Marissa’s wedding; he had just _loved_ looking at you walking on those shoes that day ).Your trench – classic beige – has been discharged on your desk, together with a microscopic handbag. “I’m sorry. Were you out on a date? You should have just texted me back to go home or back at the office.”

You chuckle, blushing a little, as you keep it quiet until you clear your voice. “Actually, I was busy being stood up by a DNA technician from Vegas. I’ve been waiting at the restaurant for over half an hour when I got your text. At least it gave me an excuse to just leave- I was starting to getting pity looks from the waiters. _And_ the other clients. And I didn’t even like the restaurant- it was way too pretentious. Everybody was so stuck up.” You pull a face, wrinkling your nose, and yet, you smile. You were having a really bad night, and yet, in a matter of minutes, it turned upside down. For the better.

“That man is an idiot.” He says, patting your leg, left naked by the short skirt. He stands up, and, retrieved your jacket, he offers it to you, as to invite you to wear it once again. “C’mon, it’d be awful to waste such a nice dress for that idiot. I say, let’s hit either The Bocuherie or Pio’s, best case scenario we get a table, have really good food with some really great wines in a place where you aren’t judged by anybody, _or,_ worse case scenario, I say we get some takeout there, reheat it at my place, and drink artisanal beer on my couch while we listen to Marcus Miller’s latest album.”

You let him help you into your jacket, and smile as you tie your belt. “How do you know I like jazz?”

As he offers you his arm, he just chuckles, and doesn’t answer you. “C’mon, let’s get you into a cab- those shoes must be killing your feet!” 


	69. 3.22 Pillar Of Salt

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> He wipes your tears away with his thumb, and he looks at you, really looks at you, as he was seeing the woman right before his eyes for the very first time in his whole life. Ever so slowly he leans over you, and tentatively, as to ask permission, he touches your lips with his own, just once.

You are walking through your apartment looking at reports from the medical examiner, the ER doctors, your couch and tables filled to the brim with open books about physiology, medicine, reports from medical examiners in what you think could be similar cases to the one you are dealing with. 

You are massaging the back of your neck, just reading about a case happened in Italy a few years before- a young mother committed for having poisoned her daughters, found innocent years later when, even after her incarceration, the symptoms persisted and the young girls almost died due to an inability to rightly process salt in their organism, when your doorbell rings. 

You puff, annoyed, ready to read whoever dares to break your concentration the riot act, but when you see Benny from the peephole, you quickly open the door and let him in.It’s raining, and he’s drenched, one fist closed the other sort of flabby- but at a second glance, you notice it’s actually swollen -that’s the hand he has punched Bull with.

You haven’t seen him since the altercation. He has stormed out of the building, with the promise to never set foot there ever again. After the whole ordeal, you cornered Jason in his office, arms crossed and stern look like a disappointed parent, and you got the general idea of what had happened. The idiot had gone and slept with Izzie, after she had already married another man, after her father’s wake.

It’s not the fact that Benny (like you) is a fervent catholic - if she was unhappy, you can’t blame Izzie for looking for happiness somewhere else: trying to make it work when it just can’t, it’s just plain wrong, now you understand; had you been with Noah now, you’d have divorced him already.And Izzie and Jason… oh, how much you’ve envied them! They were happy and in love and they respected each other. Theirs was a marriage that was supposed to last. What broke them was the loss of their child, something that few couples can withstand.

The problem is how Jason decided to deal with it- how he hadn’t been able to keep at bay, using Benny’s words, his _animal instincts_ , his _appetites_.It was their father’s funeral. Izzie was already having problems with her husband. She may have kissed him first, but Jason was an adult, he had been a therapist. He was supposed to be smart and mature enough to put an end on it. But he didn’t. 

And now they were broken. All of them. 

Izzie and her husband. 

Jason and Benny. 

The whole team. 

You aren’t sure you want to pick a side- you aren’t sure you actually can. The boys are both your friends, but at the end of the day, they’ve both behaved like immature children. It could have been somehow amusing looking at Benny chasing Jason around, but, still, immature and childish. 

(Besides, how the hell are you supposed to?One is your best friend and your boss, the other a good friend, a colleague, and the man you’ve lusted after longer than you care to admit.)

Benny’s not saying a word, he standing still at your door, so you grab him for his sane hand and walk him inside. He moves around some books as he sits down on your old couch in green, flowery fabric, and he notices that you’ve left his side only when you sit down at his side and take his swollen hand in your own, delicately massaging it with a packet of frozen beans. 

“It’s swollen but it doesn’t look broken. Still, you should go and get it looked after if it doesn’t change in a couple of days.”

He just nods, and then, the two of you stays in silence- a silence that, differently from many other times, is heavy and heart-breaking. 

As far as you know, this may very well be the last time you see Benny. Or maybe, just maybe, you’ll see him yet again, but on opposite sides of the ring.

“Working the case?” He suddenly asks as his eyes fall on an issue of the Journal of Forensic and Legal Medicine whose pages have been folded. 

You nod. “Yeah. There’s a number of pathologies that would explain the girl’s behavior and the high amount of salt in her tissues, both psychiatric and physiological. Still, we’d need a psychiatric post-mortem evaluation which tends to not be seen too well in courts because it can be seen as merely theoretical, and then we’d need DNA tests, we’d need to know what genes we were supposed to be looking for, and we’d need time, which we don’t really have, or a referral. And meanwhile, the jury is hearing the testimony of the mother, the woman who was next to her husband every step helping him out until he didn’t decide to switch for a younger, flashier model. No matter what, they look at our client and they see the evil stepmom who breaks families up, which she isn’t. If nothing else, she strikes me as the doting kind.”

“Speaking from experience, I guess?”

You smile a little, still delicately dabbing his injured hand. You wonder how much he knows, what Bull told him and the other. You don’t really speak of it, your childhood, how much you moved around with your dad and your siblings, the coming and going of women through your house trying to mend your daddy’s broken heart.

“For a while, John – my dad- he was with this amazing woman. Elizaveta, Beth – I think I told you of her. Half Russian, half French. I was around eleven years old at the time. I think she loved us more than she loved dad. But then they broke up, and, yeah, she writes, and every now and then she calls, especially for birthdays, and she is always invited for Thanksgiving… but it’s not like having a mum. But it was nice until it lasted. Still, I get him now. Maybe not ten years ago, but now… when my mum died, he lost the love of his life. He just… broke. And he was the kind of man that couldn’t just be alone. He wasn’t good at it.”

“That’s why you didn’t remarry? Because you lost the love of your life and you don’t want to be like your dad?”

You sigh, sinking with your shoulders in the couch. Still you don’t let it go of his hand. “No, I… I loved Noah, but I don’t think he was the love of my life. It just never happened. But, who knows.”

_ Maybe I’ll remember to forget you,  _ you wonder. Maybe this time it will work, you’ll meet a decent man and you’ll actually try to make it work, once you’ll not have to compare any suitor with Benny. _Far from the eyes, far from the heart…_

“Izzie once told Bull the same thing. That he isn’t good at being alone. Isn’t supposed to.” He sighs. “Just… Did you know?” Benny asks, and you don’t need him to end the sentence, nor to ask him to explain him what he is talking about – it’s about Jason and Izzie, not the case. Not any longer.. 

You shake your head, holding his hand between yours. “No. Actually, when he first told me few months back that he wanted to go and talk with her, I told him it was a bad idea. That he had had his chance and that it was time to move on, just like she was doing. Not with Diana, though- she brings out the worse in him.” 

“Yeah, I know what you mean.” He covers your hand with his sane one, squeezing it, and he lifts his gaze, your eyes meeting. He smiles a little – and it’s the first time you’ve seen him smiling in a very long time. It’s refreshing, and it makes your heart grow at least a couple of sizes, if it’s possible. You feel like crying – but yours are tears of happiness. Because, if he is happy, then you are happy. 

And then… then, you’d start sobbing, but you bite your lips as to rein it in. Because if you’ve suspected it before, now you know for sure – actually, it’s even worse than what you suspected. 

Not only you still has a crush on Benny- worse, you’ve gone and fallen in love with him. And now that he’ll leave, you’ll never, ever have a chance with him.

He wipes your tears away with his thumb, and he looks at you, _really_ looks at you, as he was seeing the woman right before his eyes for the very first time in his whole life. Ever so slowly he leans over you, and tentatively, as to ask permission, he touches your lips with his own, just once, quickly – and then you part, and you gasp for air, feeling alive yet again for the first time in a long time.

“I’m… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have...” But you shake your head, smiling a little, and then it’s you searching for him – his touch, his kisses, his lips, his warmth. You run your fingers through his jet black hair (they are as divine as you’ve always imagined them to be), the frozen vegetables forgotten between you two as you make out like horny teenagers, devouring each other a your lives depended on it. There’s nothing else, everything is forgotten. Just him - just him and you and your need and passion and desire and plain want. 

(If this is what drove Jason to Izzie, you think you can forgive him. Not that you have to. He is a grown man, he can makes his own choices.)

His hand finds the naked skin above your pants, underneath your cotton t-shirt, and as he pinches the skin, smirking against your mouth, you gasp for air, and notice the state Benny is in- his shirt isn’t tucked in any longer, and half the buttons are undone. 

“Want me to slow down, pretty girl?” He asks, clearly impressed with himself if his smirk is of any indication. 

“Any slower than this and we’d go backward.” You shake your head, smiling, running a finger over his day old stubble. “Besides, I’m pretty sure that we had an at least yearlong foreplay, _Benny_.”

With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you stand up, and, walking backwards toward your bedroom, you offer Benny your hand; he takes it, and allows you to pull him towards your room. Once inside, he kisses you, smiling and laughing against your lips, and, making you fall on the mattress, he tickles your sides.

“Benny!” You laughs against his lips, as he keeps attacking you.

“I like the sound of it. I like how you moan my name. how you breath it.” He laughs, playing with a strand of your hair. “I’m so sorry it took me so long to do something. But… there was always something getting in the way. Even if Bull did tell me once that I was to ask you out after you joined TAC.”

You caress his lips with your right index, and snort in a very un-lady-like. “Ah. Trust me, he got that idea that we should have gotten together in that messy head of his way before I joined TAC. Remember when he introduced us to each other at his engagement party? He hoped that you’d make such an impression that I’d decided to call things off with Noah and escape into the night with you.”

“Are you kidding?” He asks, propping up on his elbow and facing you.

You nod, your head hitting your pillows as you play with your fingers to keep your hands busy. “Yeah. He knew things weren’t working with Noah- that it wasn’t just about working out our differences. We were…. _I was_ in pain. All the time. Not physically, but… I couldn’t remember what being happy was supposed to mean, why I had gotten married to that stranger in the first place. And then,I met you- and you showed me respect, and you fought all the battles, even the hardest ones. Even the ones you knew you weren’t supposed to. Bull knew I was impressed by you as a lawyer, and I think he wanted for me to be impressed by you as a man, a person, too.”

He runs, absent-mindedly,a fingers along your naked arm, making goosebumps rose, eyes in the eyes. _She would have understood,_ he thinks, _she would have followed me. Stood by my side._

“Well, I’m done wasting time.” You guys kiss again, smiling and laughing and carefree, for the longest time; when you part, Benny leans over the crown of your hair with his cheek, inhaling your scent (cinnamon and vanilla and lemon).

“I’ve wanted to do this for a long time.” He tells you, and your mind goes back to the day his father died, when you and Benny were alone in Bull’s office, and you almost kissed. 

He is smiling- his whole face is. His eyes. They are shining like stars. They are the most amazing, beautiful thing you’ve ever seen, and they take your breath away. 

“When my dad died and you told me you’d be there for me…. that I had you… and before that…You remember, couple of years ago? You had just came back working with us… there was that kid, accused of murdering his dying girlfriend. When we were talking about why he had done what he did and I really wanted to kiss you. Or maybe… it was even before that. When you asked me for a springtime kiss, and I hoped it was a real kiss, and not just a bunch of flowers…” He keeps lazily kissing you- each few words is followed by a butterfly kiss, your eyelids, your cheeks, the tip of your nose, the corner of your mouth… he’s playing, amusing the both of you.

You are so happy you’d cry if you weren’t so busy laughing, because he keeps tickling you, too.

_I’m leaving the team, but I don’t want to lose this. You._ He thinks as he stops kissing you and just stares into your eyes, serious. One hand cups your face, his thumb drawing invisible circles on your cheek, while the other searches for your hand, almost as you were a lifeline- just like the day his father did, and, when, after the service, you went to give him your condolences, Benny couldn’t let it go of you.

You squeeze his hand, eyes closed in bliss. You kiss his hand, cupping his neck, and then, his lips, once, quickly. “Now, what about we stop talking about another man and we start lose some clothes? It’s getting terribly hot in here…”


	70. 4.0 Sisterly Advice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Listen, it will pass. Eventually. I need time to… cool off. And, ugh….could we, you know, keep this conversation between us? For now? I’m really not ready for Bull to jump in sing-singing I told you so.”  
> She ruffles his hair as he chases her away. “Your secret is safe with me, little brother.”

When Izzie opens him the door, Benny feels guilty- here she is, his big sister, the one who took care of him and guided his life making sure he’d turned out to be the kind of man he was today, and he has broken her heart. 

It isn’t only seeing her belly under the grey t-shirt with a funny quote, finally showing the world that yes, she was indeed having a baby, and realizing that he has missed so much of the changes in her life in the few months he has spent away from her. It’s seeing her sniffing- knowing that she has been crying, and it’s because of him and his childish attitude. 

He is supposed to forgive and forget, if not for Bull, for Izzie’s sake, and yours, and the sake of his immortal soul AND for the baby who will soon see the light. And yet, he can’t- not yet, at least. He trusted Bull, and he feels like he’s been betrayed- because by sleeping with Izzie, he caused her to divorce and now she wasn’t a good Christian any longer and…. And he sighs, eyes closed, presses his right thumb between his eyes, as to push the bad thoughts away- thoughts he shouldn’t be thinking to begin with, because Izzie is still Izzie and she is still his sister- the good person she has always been. 

And besides, she is with child- something to be very happy about. And he is – even if Bull is the father- he really is. And he’ll be an amazing uncle. He’ll spoil this kid in the worst way possible.

“So, you don’t ask me to come in?” He chuckles, trying to lower the tension. 

“I don’t know,” she smiles, opening the door to Bull’s apartment wide. “You did punch my baby’s father in the nose.”

Benny sighs, hands in the pockets of his jeans. “I’m not mad with you, Izzie. I’m not even really mad with Bull. I just wish he showed some kind of remorse, or even just said he was sorry for doing what he did when he did it.”

Izzie lifts an eyebrow. “You mean, sleeping with a woman he loved- and who still loved him- hours after her father’s funeral?”

“Yeah.” He clears his throat. “Yeah, something like that.”

(Which is true. Even if there’s also the little thing about men not supposed to sleep with their best friends’ sisters. And he knows he is Bull’s best friend. And, all right, Bull and Izzie used to be married, but they weren’t friends back then, just mortal enemies inside the walls of the courtroom.) 

She ushers him inside, and they seat on the couch- brand new, he notices, probably an addition made by his sister since she moved in- and, as they sip him tea, her an infusion, they make small talk, and they remember the old times, their childhood, life in Puerto Rico and moving to the States- how everything seemed so big and how small they used to feel. 

And then… then, silence befalls upon them, and Benny stares at his empty cup as Izzie smiles kindly at him, the forever understanding big sister, and squeezes his knee, as to reassure him everything is all right, and even if it isn’t, it will be, eventually. 

He looks at her- really looks at her- and he sees it. She is radiant- and not just because she is finally having the child she has always desired. It’s… everything. He doesn’t evenneed to ask her if she is happy, just a look into her eyes and he has his answer.

She is. And she is right- like always. Everything will be all right. Eventually. 

“I’m seeing someone- actually, it’s more serious than that. I think I love her.” She smiles, and pats him on the knee, as to congratulate him, even if he doesn’t really know why he said it to begin with. It’s just that, she was happy, and he wanted to share whatlittle is giving him happiness about now.

“Good job, little brother. It was about time you became a family man. Do I know her?” He bites his lips, stares at his knees, and nods. “And it’s not Amanda, right? Please, tell me It’s not Amanda” 

He turns towards Izzie, lifting a quizzical eyebrow. “What’s wrong with Amanda? I thought you liked her.”

“Sure I did, but she was right for the man you used to be, the one I shaped with my own two hands. The one you turned out to be? I think you need something a little different. And I think I may know whom we are talking about here – a certain best friend of my significant other, maybe?”

“Worse than a spy, my sister. Of course you know everything.” He smiles, nodding. “How do you know, though? I mean, it’s not like I knew it myself until…” he clears his throat, waves in the air. “until the accident.”

As she often did when they were kids, Izzie ruffles his hair, kindly, and cups his face. “Because I saw how you looked at each other. At dad’s funeral. You held onto her like she was your rock.”

“This time it’s it.” He breaths out. “I’m really in love, Izzie. I mean, I’m really crazy about her.”

“I got something for you.” She chuckles, and teases him a little. She jumps on her feet, and runs as fast as she can upstairs, leaving Benny alone on the couch, nursing an empty cup and the fear – the discomfort at the idea of Bull arriving and seeing him there. 

(He’ll forgive him- just not now. He’ll have to sweat it.)

“Here. I’ve been holding onto this for a while, but, I think it’s time you have it.” She puts down on the coffee table a small box, and Benny, astonished, feels the breath dying in his throat as he is even afraid to skim over the surface of the object- it’s a small, cream-colored velvet box, hexagonal, and he knows it all too well. He still remembers a young kid, looking through his mother things, curious, wanting to play with everything. 

And that box… it was his mother’s favorite thing – the one she cared the most about, her biggest treasure after her children.

“C’mon, you’ve always known it would have been yours eventually. It was what mum and dad would have wanted.” 

He nods, opening the box up, looking with teary eyes at the content- his mother’s engagement ring, passed down through the men of the Colon family from generation to generation since 1921. He hasn’t seen it in years- though Izzie had decided to keep it for herself as he had never felt the need to ask her for it – and yet, it’s like it was yesterday, the last time he saw it, the yellow gold band embracing the two diamonds and the oval sapphire, as blue as the purest sea.

“It’s only been a few months, I mean, I don’t know if I’ll ever need it. It’s…” He chuckles, shaking his head slightly. “Thank you, thought.”

“Oh, please, I see the way you look at her. And even now. You are gonna need it, and you’ll need mewhen you’ll start arrange your wedding. Trust me.” She laughs a little, jokingly slapping him. “Besides, Jason’s always rooted for you two.”

“Yep. So I’ve been told.” His lips in a tight line, he nods. “Listen, it will pass. Eventually. I need time to… cool off. And, ugh….could we, you know, keep this conversation between us? For now? I’m really not ready for Bull to jump in sing-singing _I told you so.”_

She ruffles his hair as he chases her away. “Your secret is safe with me, little brother.”


	71. 4.1 Labor Day

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Did you really call Benny an ambulance chaser? Really? What are you, an idiot? A five years old? Filters, Jason. You are supposed to have them. To know how to properly link your mouth and your brain!”

“Your thoughts are so loud you’re hurting my brain.” At two in the morning, Benny turns toward you in bed. You are still, your lips sealed shout, tense, fidgety, and you are looking at the ceiling. You are not saying a word, which he knows it’s a very bad sign. And that you’ve definitely got something on your mind. 

“Cat got your tongue? C’mon, just spill your brains. Maybe we’ll be able to catch some sleep. Or find some more… productive ways to spend a sleepless night.” He suggestively remarks, but you just pout.

You wonder if he can see you pouting in the dark.

“I’ve heard the closing argument of our latest attempt at an in-house counselor. I think I could recite it word for word.”

He snickers. “Pretty sure that you knew some of my closing arguments by heart.”

“That’s because you always tried them with me beforehand. And because you are hot when you drill the other side or present a case. This time, thought? This guy made me want to cry. And I’m not talking about good tears. His closing argument was, _ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what is there to say? Thank you for your attention_. I was at TAC, checking the monitors with Taylor and Marissa, and I swear to God, all the red jurors turned redder and redder with each word.”

You turn to face him, looking eye in the eye in the dark of your bedroom. “Benny, if you don’t want to come back for Bull, do it for the team. Me. The clients. Besides, I kind of miss having you around the whole time.”

He grabs you, scoops you closer, let you pout against his chest. “Hey, if it’s not enough having me _here_ all the time, all you have to do is coming to work for me.”

“Not sure you can afford me, babe. Besides,” you smile a little, running an hand through his dark hair, your favorite thing to do late at night. “I don’t really like your clients. You aren’t very good at the whole getting decent clients thing.”

“But I’m very good at getting them off.” He smiles, but it doesn’t seem too sincere. He knows he is good- but he knows what he is doing it’s not very respectable. “and that, in the long run, pays.”

“I’ve been told that a DA asked Bull where _the fellow with a conscience_ was. Working for a repeat offender that tries to sue the City once a year doesn’t really show character, Benny. It shows that you are willing to do anything for the money.”

Abruptly, Benny turns on his side, showing you his back. “I’m not going to work for someone who doesn’t respect me and who calls me an ambulance chaser!”

“Did you really call Benny an ambulance chaser? _Really_? What are you, an idiot? A five years old? _Filter_ s, Jason. You are supposed to have them. To know how to properly link your mouth and your brain!” You practically slam the door of Jason’s office shout and you face him with an accusing finger. He is sitting on his couch, no glasses, facing a bottle of whisky, as to dare himself to drink it. 

“Ehy, he showed me the finger, so he isn’t a saint either!” 

He deadpans, then, his eyes do that weird thing they do when they connect the dots and he gets some kind of revelation, and he looks at you- he really looks at you – as he was hearing you talk for the first time just now. 

And he stands. Suddenly, as ecstatic as a kid in candy land. “Hang on one second. You and Benny are talking.” It’s a statement- not a question. And you hate him for being so good at reading between the lines.

And you hate yourself for the way you blush thinking about the fact that you and Benny are now an item and sleep together. And make out. And have sex. On a regular basis.

“Of course we do, you idiot. We talk all the time!” You attempt, telling the truth but trying to cover for it. Lying to Jason is futile- you just hope he’ll not get immediately the whole picture.

“Then it’s great. I didn’t want to ask Izzy to beg him for me, but you can. You are on the outside, and yet you are my in. My friend, his friend, and yet not family. You are perfect!”

You keep it quiet for a little longer than you should. You can already see Jason studying you. Trying to understand why you didn’t give him immediately n answer. What you are hiding. 

“No, no, no, no, no! I don’t want to get involved in this more that I already did! I… you can’t ask me to ruin my... my _friendship_ with Benny!”

“My dear, what were you about to say?” he asks, gleaming. “Because I’m pretty sure you were about to say something different from friendship, and then you stopped and changed it to friendship and underlining the concept a little too much. Were you trying to sell me some crap, my sweet, sweet girl?” 

You blush of the fiercest red, keeping quiet, and in that moment, you know it. He has you. He knows, arrogant bastard that he is.

“My dear girl, were you maybe going to use the word _relationship_?” He pats the space at his side, all proud and smug because he knows he is right. “C’mon, sit here and tell Uncle Bull how long you and Benny have been rolling in the hey together. Also, is it any good? Maybe we could talk about it while we do our hair or our nails!”

“You are an immature idiot.” You lift an eyebrow. Serious. And yet, you are still blushing. “Besides, don’t think I forgot you thought I didn’t have a chance in hell with Benny.” 

He chuckles. “You are probably right, still, despite what I said, I’m very happy you and Benny finally found each other. I’m not sure you’ve noticed, but I’ve rooted for your team since day one. And with day one, I mean since I was dating Izzie and asked myself if I happened to know someone who would be good enough for our dear boy.”

“I stand by my statement, you are an immature idiot.” You smirk. 

“I’ve heard it all before, and yet, you love me anyway- and now go back to your boyfriend before I decide I need you to seduce him into coming back working for me.” 

“He is… He isn’t my boyfriend.” You think. Besides, can you really still have boyfriends at your age?

(And if he isn’t, what the hell is he?)

“Really? Mind to tell me where and with whom you guys spend your nights? Cause I’m pretty sure, from your general behavior, that you have someone waiting for you back home. I’ve suspected for some time- still, I’ve never dared to hope that my masterful manipulation had borne its fruits! I knew there was potential when I found you comforting Benny in my office and I’m pretty sure you were about to kiss, still… it’s so good to know you have finally someone to come back home to. You deserve it. And you deserve the best. Even if, right now, your best is an ambulance chaser who gave me the finger.”

Ok. Maybe you are together almost the whole time, and maybe he has all but moved in. So what?

All right. fine. You guess you could define Benny your boyfriend. 

Still, did Jason just said Benny had showed him the finger?

When you come back home, it’s very late, and Benny’s already in bed; busy reading a law book, he greets you with a smile and a quick, sweet kiss as you climb in bed, still dressed, sitting with your back against the headboard. 

In silence. 

Looking at him- studying him. 

He grins, shaking his head. “All right. fine. What do you need?” He asks, holding your hand as you pout.

“Bull needs a continuance. Would you at least call the judge and get that for him?”

He lets go of your hand, and, huffing clearly annoyed, without saying a word, turns, showing you, yet again for the second night in a row, his back.

You clench your teeth, and, as the good adult you are, you throw him your pillow. “Fine. Be a child and let a girl go to prison because neither of you is mature enough to admit you are immature idiots!”

Suddenly, sensing the bed shift at his side, he turns and sits on the bed, facing you, pointing an accusing finger in your general direction. 

“He made Izzie cheat on her husband! At my father’s funeral!”

“Made her? Excuse me, have you met your sister? She isn’t some… plastic doll with no brains. She made a choice. And she choose _him_. You idiot, you should be happy she was strong enough to decide she deserved to be happy on her own terms instead of keeping being married with a man who couldn’t make her happy and just kept making her feel not enough and miserable!”

With tears burning your eyes, you slam the door shout at your back, and go to sleep on the couch. 

Benny just feels too guilty to even consider waking you up in the morning. 

“So, I’ve heard from a little bird that Bull and you seem to have patched things up. Does it mean you are coming back to work on Monday?”

“Yep, or so I’ve been told by the big man in charge. Still…” Lying in bed, hands crossed behind his head, Benny laughs, turning his head sideways to get a look at you, dressed with a shirt and yoga pants, ready for bed. “I think there may be something very wrong with this picture.”

“Oh?” You sound surprised, even maybe a little hurt by his sudden serious look.

He nods. “Yes. You are in _our_ bed, wearing too many clothes, and talking about _another_ man. I think it’s my duty to get your attention back.”

You smile, giggling like you were a young girl again. You bite your lips, and decide to keep your mouth shout, not wanting to break the spell.

_ Our bed.  _ Benny said those words. Ours. It’s been years since the last time someone said those magic words, and someone, just by hearing them, your heart grew two sizes bigger. “Yeah? And how do you intend to do so, counselor?”

“Oh, like you don’t know that closing arguments are my specialty. Think I never noticed how starry eyes you got when I talked? That you couldn’t get your eyes off of me?” He kisses you – again and again and again, small kisses. “I’ll have to be very through, of course, but, I think _, Detective_ , that I may have all night long to prove my point and beg for your forgiveness. I’ve been a bit harsh lately. I guess Bull was right. I was feeling hurt, and… he was there. Didn’t considered Izzie, him… you.”

Smiling, you gently skim over his cheek. “It’s all right. Things happen- bad things, good things, and you can’t do anything about it. We had an argument. It was the first time but it’s not going to be the last. And besides, I was kind of envious. Izzie was feeling hurt and decided to be better and went for what she wanted. I didn’t had that strength. I just trapped myself more in un unhappy marriage, even if it was someone else I really wanted.”

You look at him, a bit mischievous, biting your lips. For a while, Benny just studies you, trying to get who the mystery man who stole your heart could be, and then, _then_ he remembers. 

It hasn’t just been lately that you’ve looked at him with stars in your eyes. It’s not new that you were there, appreciated him. Yes, lately, he has gotten you watching him quite a lot, but, just now, he realizes that it’s nothing new.

It’s him. 

It has always been him. 

“I’m one lucky idiot…” He chuckles as he descends upon you and devours your lips, his hands hungry running over your skin.

For the longest time, neither of you talk- not with words, at least. 


	72. 4.2 Fantastica Voyage

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Bull! He is a manipulative liar and the worst thing is, I know it, and yet I always, always fall for his tricks!He promised me that we would have vetted every case together, and yet, he accepted a case. for a woman that I can’t defend, at all! And I’m pretty sure he mocked me! He even said: I care about what you say, But I’m doing it anyway!”

You come back home from your office- the one in your lab, not the sorry excuse of a room Jason rents out to you whenever he has a case he may need your help with- with a stiff neck and red, glassy eyes, after hours spent staring at genetic sequences on a screen. 

It’s not a voice, nor a smell, to welcome you- rather a sound. Someone’s chopping like there was no tomorrow, and, from the sound of it… he is quite angry.

“I hope you’re not picturing my head right now.” You actually hiss, almost as if he was actually chopping you in tiny bits, when Benny makes the figurative axe fall on the chive. 

He doesn’t dare to dignify you with an answer. 

“Soo….” You casually says as you join him, and sit at the table. “Smells delicious. What are we cooking?”

“Jerk.” He just says, again and again and again as he keeps chopping, literally killing and wasting the herb. 

As the axe is about to fall down once again, delivering the killing blow to the mixture of herbs, you move to the side the cutting board. “All right. So, I guess we’re not talking about jerky beef, so… who’s the jerk? Izzie? Jason? Me?”

He retrieves the cutting board and keeps cutting – like it was still necessary, there’s just a greenish puddle that doesn’t even resemble anything that one would add to any recipe. “Who do you think? Bull! He is a manipulative liar and the worst thing is, I know it, and yet I always, _always_ fall for his tricks!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. Just two weeks, and they are at it again. 

Kids.

“He promised me that we would have vetted every case together, and yet, he accepted a case. for a woman that I can’t defend, at all! And I’m pretty sure he mocked me! He even said: I care about what you say, But I’m doing it anyway!”

“Hence, the cooking.”

“Yes! Hence the cooking! Izzie taught me to cook, and when I’m stressed, I cook! Something wrong with that?”

“Nope, no, not at all. I mean, few months we’ve been together, I’ve never had so many good home-made meals. Besides, pretty sure _this_ beats my alternative.” He looks at you, inquisitive. “Going to the shooting range and imagining Jason’s head on the target. Not very healthy. Probably why he thinks I’m kind of a sociopath.”

He smiles a little, looks at the mess he just did and decided he is better off with it in the waste. “Are you actually trying to make me feel better?”

Elbows on the table, joined hands under your chin, you smirk. “Is it working?”

“Yes, it does, indeed.” He gives you a quick kiss, turning off the stove at the same time. “Want to take a bath while I get the table ready?”

“Nope. I’d rather do this with you.” You take his face between your hands and kiss him, and then, as you part, you stare in his eyes. “Unless you want to join me in the shower?”

“Ah, I’m always up for saving water!” He smiles, interlacing his fingers with yours. “I’d like that very much.”


	73. 4.3 Rectify

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “What are you doing on my floor?” Bull asks you, lifting an eyebrow.   
> “You asked me my due diligence, and here I am, providing you with my due diligence.” You click your tongue as you put another picture on the floor. “So, Marissa had the idea of using Eddie’s height to recreate the crime scene…”   
> “Still not sure why you are on my floor to begin with.”   
> “You don’t have a 3D virtual autopsy table, or even dummies, so I had to get creative.”

“Are you seriously reopening the Eddie Mitchell case?” You practically storm into Bull’s office without a care in the world, not bothered by the fact that he, Chunk and Benny are talking about the case. “A jury condemned him. Based on _evidence._ Evidence that the work where I worked collected!” __

“Guys, could you please give us the room?” Bull demands, and you both keep your mouth shout, waiting for everyone to be out. “All right. Could we please not do this again? This is my office, those are my employees, and I really don’t want to see you making a scene again, all right?”

You hiss, pointing a finger at Jason. “I’m telling you, Jason, that man is guilty! We’ve always made our work at the lab, with due diligence. There were fibers from his clothes on one of the victims, his DNA underneath one of the victims’ fingernails, many witnesses saw an altercation taking place that very evening between Mitchell and one of the victims, he was known for carrying a Glock just like the murder weapon and he had motive!”

“Ok, a little question: did you already knew Benny back then?” He suddenly asks you, his voice low. 

You close your first, barely resisting the urge to punch him in the nose. 

Benny’s right. Jason is a jerk. 

“I’m not saying Mitchell’s guilty because I’m in love with Benny and he was there- I barely knew him at all in 2002 and I barely worked the case – I was just a lab rat twenty years ago. What I’m saying, you idiot, is that Mitchell is guilty because there’s plenty of evidence that _my lab got_. And I know this isn’t how you work, that _your science_ and _my science_ aren’t the same thing, but _my science_ put Mitchell on the crime scene at the time of the murders and in direct contacts with the victims! Telling me now that he is innocent, that you believe him, it’s like telling me you don’t trust my work!”

“That’s not what I’m saying, and you are putting words in my mouth.” He points a finger at you, trying to rely you in.

“Those people who signed the reports?” You point a ginger at the stack of papers on Bull’s desk, taking a step forward him. “I know them, Jase. Taylor’s taught me everything there’s to know in this line of work, and Stella’s leading the San Francisco crime lab now… they are good cops.

“I know you think they are, and you are probably right. But,” he pinches the bridge of his nose, sighing. “ All the evidence that was collected, it was circumstantial. And, wait for it…”He says, chuckling. “Five cases. One witness. One detective.”

“What?” You ask, blindsided. 

“Five different cases- murders and drug crimes, all felons convicted by the same eyewitness, all investigated by the same detective, Valerie Cobb.” You stay quiet, and he grins, already knowing he had just won the argument. “I’m sorry, did I just get your attention?”

“More than anything, you picked my interest up. I’m all ears.”

“Oh, I thought it was you guys. C’mon, there’s something we want to show you.” Danny smirks as she ushers Benny, Bull and Chunk inside TAC’s headquarters as soon as they leave the elevator, right into one of the conference room where all furniture has been moved aside, clearing the floor. You are kneeing on the floor, cross-legged, positioning crime scene pictures Marissa is handing you over all over the floor, rebuilding a life-sized version of the crime-scene. 

“What are you doing on my floor?” Bull asks you, lifting an eyebrow. 

“You asked me my due diligence, and here I am, providing you with my due diligence.”You click your tongue as you put another picture on the floor. “So, Marissa had the idea of using Eddie’s height to recreate the crime scene…” 

“Still not sure why you are on my floor to begin with.” 

“You don’t have a 3D virtual autopsy table, or even dummies, so I had to get creative.” You turn to face him, sighing dramatically, and then you go back to the pictures. “Anyway, Taylor made a 3-D rendering of the crime scene, which, based on the trajectory of the bullets imply that our shooter was between five, eight and five, ten.”

“Which sound like Eddie.” Bull sighs. “Great. I’ll be in a coma on my couch.”

“Not so fast.” Marissa smirks, grabbing Bull for the elbow. “After this, we took another look at the blood splatter reports, Taylor put them in the computer model and we realized that something didn’t make sense.”

“Hence this.” You click your tongue again. “We are proving a theory. And that you could have had a point.”

“Still, what it is that doesn’t make sense?” Benny asks you women. 

“There was blood all over Karla’s back.” Danny says. “So, we tried to make sense of the blood splatters, and we thought of something.”

You sigh. “Carla’s back was soaked in blood- Marcus’ blood. And as she was on her side, _and_ there’s none of her blood over him, not even a drop… it means he wasn’t next to her when she was hit. It means she was hit first and she was down when Marcus was hit.”

“So, you say Karla Angel was shot first?” Benny ask, looking at the pictures in your hands. 

“Its’ the only thing that makes sense.” Danny smirks, a little, proud of the work you’ve been doing. 

“And it also means that you were right, Bull - the lab rushed into their analysis of the crime scene because they thought they already had their culprit. You were right and I was wrong.”

Bull smirks as he squeezes your shoulder. “It’s nobody’s fault. Twenty years ago, police didn’t have these kind oftoys, and blood splatter analysis wasn’t a full-fledged science yet.” 


	74. 4.4 Her Own Two Feet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ I knew that you would have done something, eventually. I mean, you should see yourself when you look at him at mock trials, when he gives closing arguments or questions whoever is on the stand. You actually eat him up with your eyes like he was some kind of succulent piece of meat. Pretty sure I even saw you licking your lips once or twice.”

“Did you remember when, few years ago, you told me to be careful with rekindling an old romance?” You sat opposite Marissa in the dark, at almost two in the morning. She’s been drinking- heavily – but you haven’t touched a sup of scotch -at least one of you needs to stay sober, if you want to have this conversation- and you nod. 

“I told you I knew what I was doing. And I told Bull I wouldn’t have gone back to him crying if things wouldn’t have worked out _. If._ Not when. If. Because I thought, we are in the same city, neither of us has to travel too much any longer, hours are normal-ish… but I was wrong. It wasn’t a matter of if, but of _when._ And now I’m going to run back to Bull and do the very thing I promised him I wasn’t going to- hold onto him while I sob my eyes out.”

You squeeze her hand over the glass. “If you need a name, I know a couple of family lawyers. Lynn Holt, a friend of mine? Pretty sure you could use her right about now.”

“Thanks. I really have little to no use of men in my life at this very moment in time. Our guys excluded, of course _._ ” She nods, her eyes glassy. She is about to sob, you can clearly see it. “Why does people always leave? I mean, all my life, all I ever wanted was… someone to cleave to…..”

Your squeeze get stronger. “My mum died in childbirth. _My_ childbirth. My father… he stopped being a dad. For my siblings. And for me. And all I ever wanted out of life was his love. That he’d be proud to call me his daughter.” You tighten your lips. “I’m still waiting, I suppose. But, you know what I learnt? That life’s not over just because he can’t see what’s good right before him. Besides, you are still young, and a beautiful, smart woman. You’re going to meet someone who will make you very happy, one day. And even if it doesn’t happen, you are strong. Stronger than you think. you’ll be all right.”

“You are happy.” She squeezes her eyes shout, and you laugh a little. 

“Yeah, Yeah, I am. Very much so.”

“You are happy, and you don’t need a man in your life! I just want to be like you!” She smiles, still drunk, tapping your hand, enthusiast. You don’t say anything- you don’t want to lie – so you keep your mouth shut. But she knows. Even drunk, she is still a top former homeland agent, after all. “Oh, you naughty, naughty girl! You got yourself a man! Is it Benny? He always looks at your feet when you wear heels!”

You blush, trying to diverge your attention, or at least your gaze, to anything else- the ceiling seems as good as appoint to start as any. _Weren’t’ we talking about you?_ You wonder.

“Ah. I knew that you would have done something, eventually. I mean, you should see yourself when you look at him at mock trials, when he gives closing arguments or questions whoever is on the stand. You actually _eat_ him up with your eyes like he was some kind of succulent piece of meat. Pretty sure I even saw you licking your lips once or twice.”

You blush furthermore. You really don’t need for Marissa to know that you’ve always found Benny hot when he played the role of the resolute lawyer that he is.

“I know that every day is a new day, blah, blah, blah, but today just sucked. And you want to know the worst part? He wants half of my condo. The one I had long before I married him. The first time around! Did I ask him for half of his restaurants? Nope, no way! Even if it’s just because of me and you guys that he still has them! And yet he wants my condo!”

“Yeah. Some people just sucks.” You chuckle darkly. You can’t believe that Marissa’s soon-to-be ex-husband would do something like that, after everything she had done for him: she had stood by his side when he had been accused of the death of one of his employees, posted bail… and yet…

And yet. 

“C’mon, I’m driving you home, or wherever you want to go.” You hold Marissa’s jacket for her, and she drunkenly accepts it, hiccupping a little, and in the elevator, you text Benny that you’ll be late- your friend needs you.


	75. 4.5 Billboard Justice

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ I’m going to bed, and I think you should go home, Benny. Because I really don’t like you right now and I don’t think I can handle being in the same room with you.”

The glasses actually trembles when the door is slammed shout, and you hear Benny’s walking, stomping his feet. He doesn’t say a word when he enters the kitchen, he throws the jacket on the table (not caring that you are eating) and almost rips his tie as he takes it off.

You carefully lay you glass on the table and leans toward him. “All right. I guess you had a bad day. Hi, by the way.”

“So, you remember when you asked me if I wanted to go to the firing range with you? I think I’d _really_ like to.” He is standing, pacing the small kitchen, hands in his pockets. 

“Cute. What did he do this time?”

“Nope. It wasn’t Bull. It was, guess who? _Taylor._ She trapped me, blindsided me, sat me up, and lied and manipulated me, and.. and…”

“Ok, ok, ok… can we stop it now with the verbs, honey? What did she actually do that it’s so bad? I mean, it’s Taylor. She is likecandy!”

“Well, your candy went behind my back and Bull’s back and arranged me to meet a girl – a stripper - who wants to sue Nathan Alexander for raping her. And who were we supposed to meet tomorrow, uh? But Nathan Alexander, of course!”

You bite your lips. “So, tomorrow you’d be meeting a rapist. To make it all go away? Is that what you are saying?”

“We didn’t know what the meeting was about, we could have met himand decided to not help him. Now we don’t know.”

You just cross your arms. “So, your problems is that it costed money and a profitable business relationship to the company, right? Who cares what he had done, he is rich, she is a stripper, he must be right.”

“Don’t put words in my mouth. This is a he says, she says situation. There’s no evidence, no witness. There’s just not enough to go to trial.” 

“And yet he was coming to you guys. I wonder about what.”

He sighs, looks at the ceiling before looking at you. “We’ve both been doing this for a long time. We both know that you can’t fight someone like Nathan Alexander.”

“When did you become so old and cynical? That’s not the man I fell in love with. A young ADA who would take cases no one would, prosecute whoever he thought had wronged someone else, an innocent!”

“Listen, It’s complicated, and I thought you would have understand!”

“What? That men can do whatever they want because it’s just a _he says, she says_ thing? Any idea how many women are molested every day? It’s not just rape. It’s what people see as small things. We are… groped, felt up, we are… insulted. Because we are women. Because we are wearing high heels and a skirt or… just because.”

“Any other place Taylor would have been fired immediately! She went behind our backs and put the firm at risk! Trust me, people gets disbarred for less than this. ”

You shake your head, lift an hand as to stop him. “No, I don’t want to hear it. Just because she’s been reckless doesn’t mean defending Alexander was right!” 

“Honey, I…”

“No, just… No. I’m going to bed. I think you should go home, Benny. Because I really don’t like you right now and I don’t think I can handle being in the same room with you.”


	76. 4.6 Into The Mystic

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How do you know it was me? I’m not the only one wearing heels at the office.”  
> “Yeah, but Taylor’s home with her kid, and Marissa doesn’t use Petals & Flowers. Roses and Lilacs- I’d recognize that scent everywhere.”

“So, apparently, our client is donating a ton of money to Alzheimer research, resigning _and_ moving abroad. I wonder where she got the idea.” You sit on Bull’s desk, crossed-legs, and throw him the paper where you just read the news. “You know, I’ve always told people, somewhere, there’s a beating heart underneath that cynical attitude.”

“Hmm.” He simply grunts. 

“She said something about owning your own destiny. Pretty sure I’ve already heard it all before. It was this guy I went to College with, who didn’t want to relinquish my own happiness just to make someone else happy?”

“That’s a very smart man, indeed.” He chuckles. “You know, if I were that smart man, I’d tell you to go get the love of your life, go home and have a glass of wine with him.”

You hiss between clenched teeth. “Yeah, well,the love of my life – _your_ definition, not mine – and me, we are kind of not on speaking terms at the moment.”

“One more reason to go home and talk with him. Benny and I have been idiots. We thought about what was logical instead of what was right. But when our client won, he was the happiest I haven’t seen in a long time. Because he knew he had done the right thing. Righted a wrong.”

“Is that your contorted way of saying that I should right _this_ wrong and patch things up with my boyfriend?”

“Boyfriend? You do know you are in your forties, right? And that you’ve mooned over that man for half your life? And that you are practically together 24/7? And you call him boyfriend? What are you, 13?”

You throw a paper ball at him, and leaves the room, giggling- a bit like you were a teenager. You know Benny hasn’t left yet, so, once retrieved your stuff, you look around for him- his desk, break room, conference room. He is nowhere to be seen, which means that he is in his favorite place.

The tribunal. 

He is sitting at the stand, joined ankles on the wood table, staring at the ceiling at closed eyes. Your low heels tic-tacking on the floor, you make your way to him, and go at his back. He isn’t asleep, but he isn’t opening his eyes up either, and you wonder if he knows that it’s you, and not Taylor or Marissa. 

“Ehy, babe.” He says, his eyes still closed.

Smiling, you massage his temples- he looks tired and stressed and tense, and you guess it may be partly because of you – and you smirk. “How do you know it was me? I’m not the only one wearing heels at the office.”

He moans in pleasure, sighs in appreciation. “Yeah, but Taylor’s home with her kid, and Marissa doesn’t use Petals & Flowers. Roses and Lilacs- I’d recognize that scent everywhere.”

You are sort of flattered that he knows so much about you, that, even when you weren’t a couple, he was paying attention to the details, the small things. “So, a wise man suggested me to drag you home and have some wine. I was thinking of something in the line of Irish coffee, instead? Or maybe just Whiskey. Or a glass of fourteen years old Scotch. I know how much you like your Scotch.” You pause. “In case you were wondering, this is me apologizing for having acted…. Childish. So. Do you forgive me, and are you ready to come back home with me? Because I miss you. Bed’s empty and the cat refuses to warm my feet at night.”

He takes you hand and kisses it, smiling because of your jokes. “No. I was the one at fault. And I hated admitting that you and Taylor were right. I can’t know what any woman goes through when she is molested- no matter in what capacity. I’ve been cynical and old and I don’t want for our kids to grow un in a world like that. Ever.”

Whoa- rewind it a little. Did you just hear what you think you’ve just heard?

Did he actually said…. What he said?

Does he knows what he just said?

“Honey? Did you hear what I said?”

“Yeah.” You mumble. “I think I’m just… processing. I’m sorry, did you say, our kids? As in, figurative our kids, the world’s kids, he next generation, or, our kids as in, our kids? As in, belonging to the two of us?”

He laughs. “Let’s be honest, babe. I can’t do any better than you, and, not to flatter myself, but Jason claims you’ve been in love with me all your life.”

“More like _half_ my life, and I wasn’t in love with you. I had a crush on you. Whole other thing. And anyway, it doesn’t matter. I’m over forty, Benny. Not really smart to have kids at my age, so I suggest you start looking around if you are into this for the kids part.”

“Well… Marissa’s been adopted – and she was almost a teenager. Can’t see why we couldn’t do the same thing in a few years. When we’ll be married, and the company will be a little bit bigger., with maybe another in-house counselor?”

He turns toward you, a bit scared by your silence. 

“Are you being serious?” You ask him. “I mean… we aren’t even really living together yet.”

He smiles, his eyes shining with happiness. “A situation we should really rectify – I mean, I already spend six out of seven days at your place, and when I’m at my apartment, I feel so alone that I have to spray your perfume on my pillow to fall asleep. I’m not saying we should get married tomorrow or run to Vegas and elope, because when I’ll marry you, I want to do it right. A church, our friends and family, whatever kind of dress you want, flowers,flower girls, ring bearer…whatever we’ll decide. What I’m sayingis that you should… wait for a proposal, eventually, one day, sooner rather than later.”

You lazily run your free hand through his hair, and cup his cheek. He leans onto your touch, practically purring like a content kitty. “Good. and, so you know, you should wait for me to accept that proposal, eventually, one day.”

“Good to know,” he kisses your palm. “Good to know, sweetheart.”


	77. 4.7 Doctor Killer

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Any human being with just half a brain would see an accident when they saw one. And these here, it’s an accident. It’s as clear as day. If the ADA office wants to persecute someone for the death of the hotshot doctor, why not going against the construction company for negligent homicide?”

“Do you think you could ask the judge to strike the kid’s confession? I mean, without it, there’s basically no case – not sure there should be one to begin with, actually. Not against our client, at least.”

Sitting at the defense table in the mock courtroom, Benny lifts his eyes from his notes, and lifts a quizzical eyebrow at you. “The detective in you got any idea?”

“Well, for starter, the detective in me thinks,” you give him a folder, and cross your arms, standing before his table. “That a detective shouldn’t take the testimony and or confession of a sixteen years old without counsel or a relative present – just because the law allows it. You’ve heard him, the kid thinks he could get the death penalty, which New York State hasn’t enforced since the _sixties_ … it was like listening to a kid talking.”

“And?” He asks, eyebrow still lifted. He feels like you aren’t done- which you aren’t. 

“Any human being with just half a brain would see an accident when they saw one. And these here, it’s an accident. It’s as clear as day. If the ADA office wants to persecute someone for the death of the hotshot doctor, why not going against the construction company for negligent homicide?”

“I don’t know…” He scratches his neck. “Seems kind of hard to prove. Besides, you said it yourself: the law allows the police to interrogate a minor without a parent present, even without counsel if the minor renounces to a lawyer.”

“What’s there to prove? There was a fifty feet pit, left unguarded, the gates were unlocked, and there was no warning sign. If it was a civil suit we’d win in half an hour, top. That poor kid just wanted to know why he had to see his mother loose her mind during her last few weeks with her family.” You pick on your fingernails. “It’s not right. That family has lost almost everything. He can’t go to jail and ruin his life for something he didn’t do.”

Benny covers your hand with his, and he squeezes it, making you feel his warmth, his presence. “And we will- I promise you, we will.”


	78. 4.8 Safe And Sound

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "We couldn’t let an innocent man go to prison for something he didn’t do..."

You are curled up on your couch, looking at the black screen of your TV, with your pajama. You don’t feel like watching anything, or even eating. 

Eric and Lena are your friends- were your friends. You and Bull knew them since college. You’ve been at their wedding. They had been at yours. Eric was Jason’s best man. You had sent Lena flowers and an handmade blanket when she had the kids. 

And now, they aren’t talking with you two.

Benny puts a blanket over your shoulders, and you squeeze his hand as he hands over a cup of tea and caresses your cheek and gives you a kiss on the forehead. He sis till dressed as he was in court, minus jacket and tie. Rolled up sleeves. You’ve always liked him with the sleeves rolled up. 

“I know that it hurts but we didn’t have any other choice. We couldn’t let an innocent man go to prison for something he didn’t do, and we couldn’t leave a dangerous, unstable kid like that on the street. You saw what he said he wanted to do once he and his mum would be left alone.”

You nod, sniffing. “I know, I know. But… that child was their child, and they were my friends. Lena gave me food for a week when Noah died.”

“Honey, I’m telling you what I told Bull: we didn’t have a choice.”

“I know, but, still….”

You cry, for all the losses you’ve witnessed, knowing that one out four marriage fails after the loss of a child- and Lena and Charlie have lost, in a way, both their kids, and Benny curls up with you, your head onhis chest.

You wet his shirt with your tears as he tries to kiss you better, his touch gentle and soothing on the crown of your hair. 


	79. 4.9The Flying Carpet

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Guys… are we awful human beings?” you ask Marissa.   
> “Well, let’s look at the bright side: we are representing the Elamsyris, in a matter of speaking.”  
> “Not really feel any better, Mar.”

“Wow. Benny’s good. I don’t know if I should hate him or compliment him now.”

Marissa smirks as you look at the screens at the trial. Benny’s questioning a young man that destiny and his own actions put on a wheelchair. 

You look at the sea of red of the jury. They hate your boyfriend. They definitely hate you guys. Which you get: your opponent is a 14 years old boy on awheelchair, and you represent a conglomerate, for lack of a better word. You’d hate yourself right now if you could sort of see their point. 4% of cars accidents happens because of Selfies. Almost 300 people had died globally, from 2011 to 2019, because they got themselves in dangerous situations for a photo to share on the net.

It’s reckless. It’s stupid. 

But this is a kid. A fourteen years old kid. Barely a teenager. And your professor used to say that men’s teens last well into their thirties- just like Benny. 

“Guys… are we awful human beings?” you ask Marissa. 

“Well, let’s look at the bright side: we are representing the Elamsyris, in a matter of speaking.”

“Not really feel any better, Mar.” You shake your head, and look at the screens, listening to Benny questioning the mother. Your phone rings, bringing you back to reality – and taking your mind off of things you really hate thinking about (like the fact that you are representing the bad guys). 

Ellie- your sister. You lift an eyebrow, wondering what may be happening. She doesn’t usually calls you first.. did something bad happened? Something you should be worried about?

“What’s up?” You ask, trying to force a smile upon your lips, but you cringe- you are awful at acting.

“So, we’ve been talking, and we said, if our beloved baby sister can’t come down to Miami for Thanksgiving, why don’t we go to see her? So, we’ve decided to move Thanksgiving. At your place.”

You don’t say anything for the longest time. “So, you…. Decided what? To arbitrary come to my place, without asking me first? Just like that? One week before Thanksgiving?”

You can see Ellie’s eyebrow rising through the phone. “Why, you were planning some romantic gateway with your boyfriend? Did we screw thing up, baby girl?”

“Don’t call me baby girl, you know I hate it.” You pint a finger at her, hissing – like she could see you, but, if she is anything like you, she knows all too well what’s going through your mind. “But… what about your flights, and… where will you’ll be spending the night? Because I don’t have room for you all, I’m telling you. And… And I’ll need to cook, and clean, and what didn’t you get of “ _I’m swamped up in work up to my hair”_?”

“Well, duh, I thought you were exaggerating. Or just wanted to spend Thanksgiving in bed with your man. I mean, young, fresh love and all.”

_ Right. Because I’m suddenly you,  _ you think, sighing, pinching the bridge of your nose. “All right. Listen…food, and cleaning up, I can handle. _But_ you have to find on your own a place to stay, all right?”

“Are you sure you don’t need anything? I’d be more than happy to help!” Izzy calls from the living room, sprawled on your couch, her feet in Jason’s lap as he massages her aching ankles.

You are finishing getting the table ready. “Don’t even think about it! You already brought dessert for a dozen people! _And_ a centerpiece!”

“It was the least I could do, considering you guys have been so nice to have us at Thanksgiving together with your family –besides, such a huge table without a centerpiece would have been so sad!” she smiles and your mother- step-mother, actually, laughs. 

“I’m so sorry we intruded like that, _dorogaya_ [sweetheart].But, at least we get to be formally introduced to this new man in your life. _khotya ya govoril tebe, on byl dlya tebya_.” [Although I’ve always said, he was the one for you.] 

“Stop speaking Russian, Mama. It’s _mean_.” You sing-song from the kitchen, where you are checking on the turkey- You didn’t do it, just… you got it already done, ready to cook. (Ehy, they did call youat the last minute). 

“Yep, besides, Elizabeth, ever since I knew your daughter, I’ve learnt all the bad words, which means you can’t insult me behind my back any longer.” Bull chuckles, still massaging Izzi. You walk past the couch, on your way to the kitchen, and jokingly slap him in the back of the head. “Ouch! That hurt!”

Izzi laughs, and it’s a beautiful sound. You actually see Benny, in the kitchen, holding back his tears. He’s seen her hurt, upset, to see her now, radiant, and happy, and with a huge family at her disposal…

It’s something to be truly grateful for. You, your family, your friends. Everything. All in all, it’s been a good year, and he can’t believe that he had almost lost it all. That, had he not tried to hear your side of the story that evening, you wouldn’t be here today, together.

The ring is in his pockets ever since Izzi gave it to him- it’s burning hole through his trousers, for real, and he can’t wait to give it to you, ask you to be part of his family for the rest of your lives. But he wants to do it properly. Do things the way Noah, your first husband, didn’t.

“Your family’s quite the polyglot, sweetheart. It always gives me an headache.” Izzi chuckles, hands on her belly. Six months. She can barely believe it. In three months, she’ll be a mum.

“My fault.” Elizabeth puts an elegant hand over her heart. “My father was Russian, he went to France looking for his family- some of his ancestors had escaped there after the Revolution – and he fell for my mother. She was trying to make it big in Paris, as a dancer, but when their eyes met, she knew her place wasn’t on a stage. They came back to her chateau, in the countryside, and then they had me. I was studying abroad when I met my ex-husband. And I instantly fell in love- not with him, but with his kids.”

“Yep, that’s me. Adorable. Everyone wants to be my parent figure or my surrogate sibling.” You check the clock. It’s getting later- your sibling will be there any minute. “Okay, I’ll go get changed. Just need to put on a decent sweater and I’ll be back! Don’t open the door without me!”

“Ma’am? Would you mind checking this mushroom soup for me? Your daughter just left me here all alone to tend to it, and I have no idea if it’s ready or not!” Benny says as soon as he sees you are out or eyesight. 

She leaves her seat, and quickly joins Benny in the kitchen. She lifts theand inhales the deep and reach scent of dried mushrooms, the smell bringing her back to her family, the winter in North France when her dad used to make all the traditional dishes from his country. She learnt all of them, and her kids- you, whom are like a daughter to her, her most cherished possession – did the same.“Oh, [My God], you guys even made Pirozhki!”

Benny lofts an eyebrow. “If by Pirozhki you means this bread-like things with stuffing, then yes, your daughter did them. Speaking of which, I wanted your advice on something, ma’am….”

He shows her the small jewelry box, and opens it, to reveal the amazing ring he got from his ancestors, and she smiles, and looks at him like he was the world. 


	80. 4.10 Imminent Danger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> ...and as people claps and the party finally resumes, under the loving and watchful gaze of your friends and surrogate family, the ball falls on the floor, lying there almost forgotten, the letters shining underneath the tree’s lights.

“Word of advice: a watched phone never rings.” You and Danny join Taylor at her desk as, between assignments for Bull, she keeps staring at her phone, every two minutes, Danny on her chair, you, casually sitting with crossed legs on the edge of her desk. 

“Do you want to tell your girls all about it?” The former FBI asks, chuckling. 

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” Taylor tries to defend herself, but, despite having been in the Intelligence, she doesn’t seem too good at the whole lying game: she blushes, and averts your looks.

“Well, I’m no Bull when it comes to people reading, but,” You bite your lips. “I gather you may havegone to a hot date last night and you may be waiting for him to let you know he had as a good time as you did,or your kid is sick and you are expecting the nurse or the sitter to call you back and let you know exactly what’s going on with him.”

“My vote, first date. ‘cause I find it hard to believe that her son gave her that hickey.”

“Totally hot date.” You agree with Danny as she, giggling, rolls her office leather chair back to her desk. “C’mon, tell Auntie what’s going on. Let’s see if I happen to have some pearls of wisdom for you, my dear.”

She stays in silence for a while, then she starts telling you of her date the night before. “And everything was great until the point I told him I have a kid and he suddenly freezes!He is an adult, meeting a divorcee, he could have guessed that I could have happened to have a kid, right? And then, why, why do men have to be oh so scared if kids, uh? What’s that, the competition? Or is just me? Always ending up with cheating idiots or men allergic to my amazing kid! I bet that Benny isn’t like that!”

“You kidding? Benny and I had been dating for a few months when he started talking about getting married eventually and adopting a kid afterwards.” You snicker. 

“Next time I’ll look for a date on the internet, I’ll look for a Catholic. They always have family in mind.” 

It’s time to celebrate- and after getting and winning the last case, it’s even more so. After her wounding divorce, the separation from the man she thought was the love of her life, Marissa really needed a party like this- being around cheerful people reminding her that she isn’t alone, that she is loved and cared for. 

In a corner, drink in hand, fidgeting on your burgundy strappy high heels – the same pair you wore the first time you and Benny went and eat together at Pio’s, after you had been stood up by your date- not used to wear a fancy dress, you look at everyone, taking all in: Taylor’s talking over the phone in a corner, jacket already in hand, blushing like a schoolgirl ( as happy and radiant as you haven’t seen in… well, ever, with the exception of that time she spent two hours talking nonstop about her little boy); Chunk’s drinking champagne with Danny, who keeps caressing the smooth velvet of her brand new gloves, a gift from her secret Santa (Benny, through Izzie -he really was at loss about what getting the former FBI) and Bull is doing his best cheering Marissa up.

Benny is walking towards you, smiling, and as much as it hurts you admitting it, even if he rocks a three pieces suit,that burgundy shirt _really_ compliments his features- Izzie really has excellent taste, no doubt about it.

“Ehy, babe.” He gives you a quick kiss on the lips, and takes your empty glass from your hands,and replace it with a full one. “Marissa and that decorator really did a number on the office, uh?”

“Yeah,” You nod, drinking in on the whole festive atmosphere. “Incredible what you can do with arich man’s company credit card.” You say, mischievous.

He laughs, his arm around your shoulders, and he guides you towards the center of the room, where the huge, real, Christmas tree stands at attention, decorated in gold and red and tiny, magical white lights, like shining stars in the night. It’s so beautiful it doesn’t even seems like it’s real, it’s more like… like something out of a Christmas movie. 

“Look, if you are looking for mistletoe, don’t.If you want to kiss me, Benny, all you have to do is ask. We both know that I pretty much let you get away with everything.”

“You evil, malicious woman, all I wanted to do was enjoying a real and decent Christmas tree, as ours is a bit… sad. And small.” You stop right before the tree, and you lift an eyebrow as you see Benny looking at the decoration, squeezing his eyes as to better concentrate or looking for something in particular – what, you aren’t sure, as all the decorations are the same.

“Are you looking for something?” You suddenly ask him, as you follow him with your gaze. He takes your hand, and moves to the other side of the tree. “No, seriously, did you lose something?”

“Lost? No, not really. Not at all.” He rocks on his heels, hands in the pockets of his slacks. “So. The tree. Nice, uh?”

You lift an eyebrow, looking at Benny as he was losing his mind a tiny a little bit, and you wonder if, maybe, just maybe, he didn’t drink too much already. “Yes, we said already that it’s a very nice tree. Are you sure you are all right, Benny?”

“Yeah, no, I mean, I’m all right. Want to give it a better look? At the tree?”

“Benny, it’s a Christmas tree, decorated in red and gold, like millions of others, and we are practically underneath it. I don’t need to give it a better look!” You were on the verge of snapping. You were a tiny bit tired, and he was getting exasperating. You get that, as the good Catholic man he is, Benny just loves Christmastime, but this is verging on the absurd. And you hate the absurd.

He grabs you for the shoulders, and practically turns you over, facing the decoration, and you sigh, rolling her eyes. “Yes, but, Why don’t you look at it, now? Lifting maybe your head a little bit?”

Still rolling your eyes, you obey, and notice the odd ball, different from all the others around it. “Ok, fine, the decorator didn’t really made such a great job because they misplaced this ball. Bull should get his money back. There. I said it. You happy now?” you said, opening your arms wide.

Benny grunts. He massages the bridge of his nose, sighing. “Ok, fine, it’s misplaced. But, why won’t you give it a better look? As in, _right now_?” He demands. 

You roll your eyes, and you comply. You grab the small ball, a little higher than your head, and, taken it off from the tree, you carefully look at it, trying to see what’s Benny is trying to show you.

You don’t get it. It’s normal-sized, blush-colored, with a golden twine to hang it. The only decoration on it is a silvery fluttery writing. 

You squeeze your eyes as to better look at it, making sure that you are truly seeing what you are seeing. Swallowing, the breath dead in your throat, your heartbeat non-existent, you lift your gaze to meet Benny’s, and he is smirking at you, looking at your eyes with love and fear and hope and so many feelings it’s like sometimes it’s too much and it’d just swallow you whole. 

“So?” He asks, taking a step closer to you, interlacing your right hand with his as you still hold the sphere in your left hand. You watch it, as it the writing could suddenly change and everything turn out to be just a dream. “What do you say?”

You check. No, it’s still the same thing – and, on top of that, you realize that Benny has actually gone down on one knee, and is holding, in his left hand, the most beautiful ring you’ve ever laid your eyes on- and one you recognize from a portrait of his parents he keeps on your dresser: an antique yellow gold band, with two diamonds and a sapphire between them.

His mother’s engagement ring.

With teary eyes, you bend down enough to give him a butterfly kiss on the lips, and throw yourself into his arms. You kiss him again, and then you nuzzle his neck as Christmastime music plays in the background. Nobody’s moving, they are all holding their collective breath, and just taking you in, as you suddenly realize what this is. It’s a proposal- a Christmas proposal, underneath a Christmas Three, surrounded by your family, with a family heirloom to ask for your hands in marriage. 

Your dream proposal- the one you had shared with Benny a long time ago, when you were already in love with him but he didn’t know that you would have been in his life for the rest of his existence, until his last breath, that you were it.

And then, you say the words he’s been waiting for- since, maybe, just maybe, walking into you at Jason and Izzy’s engagement party so many years before. “Yes! I do- of course I do!” 

As people claps and the party finally resumes, under the loving and watchful gaze of your friends and surrogate family, the ball falls on the floor, lying there almost forgotten, the letters shining underneath the tree’s lights.  _ Will you marry me? _


	81. 4.11 Look Back In Anger

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “How did you do that? Looking at the pictures, interviewing the victims, and the perps, and collecting all the evidence…”  
> You just shrug as you get close, and you rub his tense shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening the tie first. “same way you did, Benny. Besides, someone has to, right? And if not the people in law enforcement, who?”  
> “Law enforcement didn’t help our client’s brother….”

“Are you sure you don’t want to eat anything?” You ask Benny, dressed in your robe, as you approached him. He is sitting on the couch, in the dark, still with the clothes he wore at the courthouse. “If you are a good buy, I’ll let have dessert for dinner.”

He shakes his head. “I’m too disgusted by humanity to even just _think_ about food now.” He sighs, and turns to face you. “How did you do that? Looking at the pictures, interviewing the victims, and the perps, and collecting all the evidence…”

You just shrug as you get close, and you rub his tense shoulders, unbuttoning his shirt and loosening the tie first. “same way you did, Benny. Besides, someone has to, right? And if not the people in law enforcement, who?”

“Law enforcement didn’t help our client’s brother….”

You chuckle lightly, and kiss him on the cheek, smiling against his skin. “That’s because he never met someone like you. You always rooted for the underdog and defended the indefensible. Kind of why I fell for you.”

He turns his head slightly, and he kisses your engagement ring before resting his head against your arm. He closes his eyes, then says, “Tell me something nice. Something that’d make me feel like laughing. Or at least hate a little less humanity.”

You put a little, as you were deep in thoughts, then, you chuckle. “Want to hear a funny story about how children’s brain is malleable and makes memories out of fantasies?” He nods, looking very interested. “When I was four, my dad caught a snake in my bedroom, and he threw it out of the window.”

He snickers. “Really?”

“No. But that’s how I remembered it. The snake wasn’t in my room- a cat had dragged one in the kitchen, and the whole thing about dad throwing it out of the window… well, jury is still out about that one, because let’s be honest, my dad had never been the kind of man to fight evil snakes. Especially for me.”

“I’m so sorry, honey.” He sighs, kissing your hand again. Your gaze is far away, and he suddenly feels guilty- to make him feel better, you are feeling worse now. “Ehy. You want to call Izzie and tell her we’re engaged? We could ask her to help arrange the wedding. Work on the party flavors. That’s kind of her line of work…”

“Actually, for the party flavors, I already thought about personalized mini chocolate bars for the guests, and mini bottles of champagne with our names in some fancy calligraphy for best man, you wedding party, maids, maid of honor. Besides….” You make a slightly disgusted expression. “Benny, your sister is eight months pregnant. I don’t want to trouble Izzy with our wedding, also because I’m pretty sure she’d delegate her assistant, and I don’t want to have her assistant arranging _our_ wedding.”

“That could be her wedding gift. I mean, your brother may arrange catering as he has a restaurant, one of your sisters is a photographer, so we’d have that covered. Ellie, the interior designer? I bet she has an eye for flower arrangements!”

You absent-mildly play with your ring, passed down in Benny’s family since the twenties. You haven’t wore it at work yet- at the lab, it interferes with gloves and chemicals, and at TAC, you didn’t feel like telling Bull yet. He and Izzie have other things to think about now. In a few weeks, it will be another thing, but for now, you just want for them to concentrate on their baby. “I bet that Chunk could get me a great discount on any dress I chose.”

“You see? We’ve done already 90% of the work without leaving our couch.” Benny chuckles, rubbing your hand. “Thank you. I really needed to take my mind off the case.”

You kiss his forehead, a little sad. “Anytime, sweetheart.”

He grins, kisses you quickly, surprising you, and he jumps off the couch. “Ehy, did you say something about dessert?”


	82. 4.12 Behind The Ivy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Nice attire you got tehre, Jase.”  
> “It’s a baby sling. One day you’ll have to try it yourself.”

“What the hell are you doing?” You ask as you enter in Bull’s office, just to find Jason embracing a football. 

“I’m embracing fatherhood. Getting ready for my baby. Why, what does it look like, kind lady?” He grins. 

“Like you lost your mind, finally?” You demand. “By the way, weren’t you throwing your pretend baby just about five minutes ago?”

In response, he throws the ball at you, and you catch it- just to leave it on his desk. 

“Nice attire.”

If looks could kill…. “Its’ a baby sling. One day you’ll have to try it yourself.” 

You snicker, pointing a finger at him. You’d like to remember him that you are almost the same age, but then you see that he is, kind of, sort of, serious. “Oh. Uh. No. And even it’d happen, I’d not use… that. It looks like a deadly trap. Or some way to enslave people. Or mittens mixed with a scarf. Choose whatever you like.”


	83. 4.13 Child Of Mine

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “ It’s not like I need a kid to be related to me to love them. It’s just not how it works. Not for me.”  
> You roll your eyes. “It’s not blood who makes a family, but what you make of a family to make, well, it.”  
> He chuckles. “Yeah, something like that. I mean, it’s not like you and Bull don’t act like two annoying siblings. And, I’ve met your stepmother. You adore her. You even call her mama and speak in Russian with her!”

When Benny comes back home, you are busy putting something edible on the table- you’re not going to lie, he _is_ the one who does well with the cooking in your relationship – and he gives you a kiss on the cheek as he undoes his tie and throws his bag on the couch. 

“Wow! What a day! You’d never guess what Bull came out with in court to settle things between our clients and the plaintiff!”

You giggle. “Knowing Bull, something crazy, that’s for sure.” You clear your voice, blushing a little. Silence falls between you two, and Benny looks at you, quizzically, as you stop doing anything- everything, really. You just stay still, unsure, scared. But there are things that you need to say- even if you know that Benny will tell you that it’s stupid. 

“Listen…” you wipe your hands on a tablecloth.” Our client… she did a brave thing. Was ready to put her husband’s happiness before her own. I… I’m not going to say that I get it, or that I agree, but, I want you to know… I _need you_ to know, that… I’d get it. If you wanted to have a kid of your own, and you were to…..look somewhere else, I’d get it. I wouldn’t hold it against you.”

You sniff, as he calls you honey, and hugs you. “I’m sorry. I’m having the worst PMS ever.”

He shushes you, kissing the crown of your hair as you keep sighing in his arms. “I thought we talked about it. Once we’re married, we could fill up for adoption. Help a kid in need. Maybe even more than one- with my raise and your new contract with the County, it’s not like we couldn’t afford, say, siblings.”

You nod, and as you part, you lean against the counter, arms crossed. “I know, I know. I’m sorry. I really don’t know what’s going on with me.” You take a big breath. “I guess, I don’t know, it was seeing this newborn kid. And, it’s not like I didn’t want it. I just…. Started out late and now _it’s_ late.”

He bites his lips, taps against the table. “Listen, if you really want this, there are other ways – nowadays they don’t donate just sperm, but, eggs too. And we could look out for surrogates if I’d make you feel any better. If you want. But, honey, _you_ have to want this, because I’m perfectly fine where I am. It’s not like I need a kid to be related _to me_ to love them. It’s just not how it works. Not for me.”

You roll your eyes. “It’s not blood who makes a family, but what you make of a family to make, well, it.”

He chuckles. “Yeah, something like that. I mean, it’s not like you and Bull don’t act like two annoying siblings. And, I’ve met your stepmother. You _adore_ her. You even call her mama and speak in Russian with her!”

You chuckle. “Yeah, but only because we were talking behind your back about you and Bull. Kind of why Marissa couldn’t stop laughing the first time she came visiting me at TAC? I was helping you out with a tie- you’ve chosen an horrible thing that really didn’t suit you at all. She said that…I think it was _Ochen' priyatno, chto ty pomogayesh' svoyemu parnyus yego odezhdoy.”_

He snorts, giving you a light kiss on the tip of the nose. “Which means… what?”

“That it was very nice and cute that I was helping my _boyfriend_ with his clothes.”

He chuckles. “Well, a very smart woman, your stepmom. Kind of why I asked her for your hand in marriage at thanksgiving.” 

“You didn’t!” You jokingly slap him on the chest. 

“Yep. I did. Even informed your brother of my intentions. I thought about telling Bull, but, he had Izzy, and besides, I didn’t trust him to not spill the beans to you. I wanted for it to be a surprise. Special. Be what you have always deserved. Always dreamt of.” The breath dies in his throat, and he looks at you, full of… love, respect, and so many feelings, you feel like you would explode. “I once told you that you deserved a Christmas proposal, underneath the tree, because you deserved to be proposed in a decent manner and not being something just said in a drunken stupor.” 

“Benny…” You cup his cheek. 

“I got the ring soon after we got together. Because I knew you were it. That you were the one. I’m sorry I wasted time. I’m sorry I didn’t see it sooner. If you are scared of this… if you think it’s too late… it’s my fault, too.”

“You are right. Family’s what you make of it, not the other way around.” Your arms around his neck, you kiss him, languid. “And just so you know, I am wearing white at our wedding. And a wedding dress. I don’t care if people says that you only get to wear it once- you deserve a proper wedding. A big, fat, catholic wedding.”

He snickers. “Oh, boy, Izzi is going to love every minute of this!”


	84. 4.14 Quid Pro Quo

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I think she got your nose, and… your eyes.” You smile at Benny. “She has taken after your side of the family.” You say, barely keeping your mouth shout when the thought, You Colòn make beautiful babies pass your mind.   
> “She is more than perfect.” Jason whispers as Benny hands the baby back to her father. “And lucky enough, she took after her mother.”

“What are you doing? Why are you dressed?” As he enters into the room, Jason seemingly sees you for the first time. You are standing before Izzy, arms crossed, slightly annoyed- frankly, you had better things to do than hold her hand and listening to your friend complaining about your other friend knocking her up.“Why is _she_ dressed? Where’s the doctor? Is everything okay?”

“It was a false alarm. And could you please tell Izzy nobody here thinks she is crazy?”

As Jason helps her seat, Izzy makes something that you didn’t think possible- she manages to both glare and out at you. “You do. You think I’m crazy. And the nurses. And the evil doctor. Jason, I want a new doctor. And another hospital, please. They are all mean.”

“Now, _that_ would be crazy.” Jason snickers, but then he clears his throat, as to take it back, then, he turns back to you, as Izzy suddenly feels the need to sniff his cologne and cry. “What are you doing here anyway?”

You open your arms wide. “I was closer,she asked me to come, I came.” You don’t add she frantically called you, sobbing, saying Jason couldn’t make it _at all-_ people is already giving her the side eye, you are not going to add Jason to the long list of people who would just give her something to sleep to be quiet once again. 

“You were on the other side of town, she works just a few blocks from here, and I think I’d like her with me anyway. She wouldn’t faint, wouldn’t get an heart attack, wouldn’t make gross comments because, c’mon, she works with the closest thing to the Living Dead. Nothing grosses her out. Nothing at all. And besides, she and Benny are practically married anyway. She is, like, this baby’s aunt anyway.” Izzy says in just one breath.

“That’s… not exactly true.” Izzy gain glares at you- but this time, there’s no pout, she is killing you with her eyes. “All right, you know what? Let’s roll with that. And on that note, I’m out.”

They don’t seem to notice you being gone. Once outside her room, you finally take a breath of relief, and massage you forehead. You try to call Benny, to tell him it’s not apparently time yet, but it goes to voicemail- he must be still in court, apparently. 

You check the time, look around, and instinctively, you walk to the nursery, as on autopilot. So many new lives- so much potential, and the happiness radiating from their families, parents, grandparents, siblings, uncles and aunts… 

You swallow hard as your hand goes to your belly, and you wonder – about the future, about the past. Would things have been different, had you and Noah got a child together, that tiny life that didn’t make it past the first trimester? Would he had saved you, or would have condemned a tiny bundle of joy to a life of hell?

You think about you family. About Beth – your stepmom, who would spoil any child of yours, be the best grandmother any children could ever ask for. And what about your father, currently on wife number four? Would he come back? Visit sometimes? Or would he still be as emotionally unavailable as he’s always been with you?

You smile of a tiny smile. It’s not a matter of if. It’s a matter of when. A matter of getting pregnant or adopting. You want a family- scratch that. You already have a family, you have Benny, and Izzy and Jason and this baby and your siblings and their kids. 

It’s just time to add to that.

It’s late at night when you see Benny and his client- Shadid. – leaving the elevator with the corner of your eye. You’ve been looking at babies for half an hour, and waited for him to “disturb” Jason and Izzy and their tiny miracle. 

“Ehy, babe.” He quickly gives you a kiss. “You’ve been in yet?”

“Nope. I was waiting for you.” You shake your head, then, offer your hand to hake to the doctor.

“Doctor, my fiancé. She is one the forensic experts on TAC’S retainer.”

The doctor nods, shaking your hand, firmly, strong, and yet delicate. You smile- definitively a surgeon hands. “Yes, I think I remember you. I was a juror last year, I saw you testify.” 

“Thank you. Always nice to know we made a good impression.” You smile, and knock at the door, and listen to Jason’s voice- low, whispered- call you in. 

You and Benny enter, quietly, and as he chuckles, your eyes turn teary at the sight of Jason on a rocking chair, his child in his arms, gently rocking her.You gently skim the top of her head with a finger, as you were scared to hurt or break her. 

“So, guys, are you ready to meet your niece?” Jason asks, looking between Benny and you. Smiling, he offers you the baby first, and Benny looks at you, with the baby in your arms, almost…. Mystified. And scared. 

“Wow, you are…” He doesn’t finish the sentence, but you smile at him nevertheless- he likes what he is seeing, it’s making him happy, and that’s enough for you. “Uhm, let’s just go easy. I really don’t want to break her.”

“You won’t. Just don’t be scared, or she’ll feel it.” You smile, sure, as you put the baby girl in his arms, so that he could cradle her. “Here. Just support her head with the crook of your elbow. See?”

“She is perfect.” He whispers, lost into the baby, as you gently touch the tip of her nose with your index, and the baby watches, as she was seeing a new toy for the first time. 

“I think she got your nose, and… your eyes.” You smile at Benny. “She has taken after your side of the family.” You say, barely keeping your mouth shout when the thought, _You Colòn make beautiful babies_ pass your mind. 

“She is more than perfect.” Jason whispers as Benny hands the baby back to her father.. “And lucky enough, she took after her mother.” 

Benny sits on the chair, and lean delicately on the arm, lost in the wonder before you, feeling, though, a bit sad- this is what, how it should have been right from the start. Back in the day, when Izzy and Jason lost their firstborn, you’ve been there- Benny for Izzy, you for Jason – and it both… destroyed them. not just their marriage, but the people they were. Izzy asked for help, asked for people to be, stay around her, but Jason withdrew from everyone, preferring to be consumed by work than thinking – just like you would do later, only, you did something worse. 

You never told anyone. Nobody knew you were pregnant. Just Noah. And now, Benny and Marissa too, know of this secret, but you never had the strength to tell Jason of your baby, not wanting for him to revive the pain. 

But now, as you squeeze your friend’s shoulder, and Benny jokingly slaps him in the arm, you know. 

This is perfection. This is happiness. 

This, is peace. 


	85. 4.15 Flesh and Blood

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You have a ruptured appendix, Benny. You are not getting discharged until a doctor says so, and you’ll not leave a minute earlier. If you even think about signing anything, I swear, Benny, I’ll have you sleep on the couch for the next six months.”

“So, you in for some lunch?” Cheerful for the successful and very promising jury, Bull claps his hands and smiles at Benny. 

“Uhm, no, I think I may actually skip it altogether…” Lamenting, Benny sits down on a bench in the corridor of the courthouse, loosening his tie a little and unbuttoning the first buttons of his shirt. Head backwards, he pants a little, as pale as a ghost. 

“Are you ok?” Bull asks him, joining his longtime friend and patting him on the leg. 

“Yeah, I’m fine.” He sighs, shaking his head slightly. “Probably ate something I shouldn’t have. My girl kept my up all night last night, she wasn’t feeling well either. I just need to seat here, recuperate, you go and eat something, all right?”

“I’d rather we go see a doctor….” Bull looks at him, almost pleading. 

“No, no, no. I told you, I’m good. It’s no big deal. Really.”

Benny smiles, and yet, it looks much more like a grimace- and Bull really doesn’t believe him. And yet, there’s nothing he can do about it. 

“Jase? What’s going on? What happened?” You and Marissa joins Jason and Chunk, already sitting in the waiting room of the ER, looking at their feet. Jason immediately greets you- he grabs you for your shoulders, squeezing them, and looks into your eyes – too big, too scared. You are pale, almost ghostly so, and are doing your best to _not_ sob, but it’s hard. There are just too many memories: it’s not just almost three years ago, when you were waiting for some news about your best friend. It’s remembering when a cop knocked at your door and told you your husband was in the ER, fighting for his life- a fight he’d go to lose. 

(Maybe he wasn’t perfect, maybe you weren’t as happy as you’ve pictured yourself on your wedding day, but he was still your husband, and there was a time when you’d been crazy in love with him.)

“We don’t know yet. He is still inside.” You bite your lips, and silently, a tear makes it way on your face. “Ehy. Are you all right? Listen, why don’t you sit down while we wait for the doctor? You look as pale as a ghost. Honey… do you… are you all right?”

“Did you come with Mister Colòn?” he hasn’t finished speaking yet, that a young doctor approaches you, casually strolling in your general direction with hands in her pockets.

You are staring at your feet, tip-tapping nervously on the plastic floor, your sweaty hand held strongly and firmly by Marissa, while Jason lets it go of your shoulder just enough to turn and face the young woman. She isn’t smiling, and you wonder if it’s a good or a bad sign..

“Yes, we are.” Bull says, swallowing. 

“How is he doing? Is he okay?” You frantically ask, eyes pleading, practically getting in the face of the young doctor.

“Are you family?” She asks you, and you run your fingers over the engagement ring Benny gave you just a few weeks ago, nodding, barely holding back your tears. 

“Yes, I’m his fiancé, _and_ his emergency contact. The gentleman who brought Mister Colòn here, he is his brother-in-law.” You squeeze Bull’s hands. “How is he doing? Is he okay?”

“Well, his appendix bursts, and at the moment, we’re in the process of preparing him for emergency surgery.”

You pale, and your whole expression hardens and you squeeze Bull’s hand so strongly that it actually _hurts._

_ Benny, you big, fat, idiot  _ you think. 

“But, he’s gonna be okay, right?” Marissa demands.

“Well, it’s usually better catching these things before they burst. Surgeries and recoveries are always a little more… involved after they’ve ruptured.”

“Still, it’s just an appendix. I mean, you guys do this kind of things all the time, right?”Chunk almost snickers. 

“Only, it’s a _burst appendix_. Which means that right now _that genius_ is having bacteria and pus spreading all over his abdominal cavity, inflaming _all_ of his organs and they could likely enter his bloodstream and cause sepsis, which can be deadly in over 20% of cases.” You say, sobbing between your teeth, and yet hissing, calling him an idiot in your mind yet again.

“She is a scientist.” Bull whispers, conspiratorially.

“Eh, anyway,what your… friend said is kind of true, but,” the doctor clears her voice, looking at you a bit scared. “We got it right on time. Still, the recovery process is going to be quite long because we need to make sure he doesn’t develop any kind of post-op infection. We’ll have to monitor him for a few weeks. And once he comes back, he’ll need to be monitored and controlled.”

You close your teary eyes, and nod, one hand over your aching heart. You are still mad- scratch that, you _are_ mad – but at least you know he is safe. Having Marissa telling you Bull saying over the mic that someone _needed_ to call 911 for Benny was one of the worst thing that had ever happened in your life. 

_ And,  _ on top of that, you are sort of feeling guilty. Benny hasn’t felt all right for a couple of days, still,you thought it was just something going on or something you’ve both ate - you didn’t feel great, either, after all. But you were wrong – you both were.And now the damn idiot has almost made you a widow…. And you aren’t even married yet!

“Don’t worry.” You nod. “I can take care of him. Check on him. We live together.”

“So, the good news is, your temperature dropped, and your blood pressure I almost normal.” The nurse tells Benny as she takes the last few tests on him. 

“So, is there any chance that I might get discharged early? I’m in the middle of a very important trial…” He dares to chuckle, the bastard, while you, at the feet of the bed, cross your arms, looking at your boyfriend like a disappointed parent. 

“Well, this is actually a doctor’s question and…” The nurse says, but you overlap. 

“You have a ruptured appendix, Benny. You are _not_ getting discharged until a doctor says so, and you’ll not leave a minute earlier.” You pout. “If you even think about signing anything, I swear, Benny, I’ll have you sleep on the couch for the next six months.”

The nurse smiles kindly at him. “Your body needs to rest.” She says, patting him on the shoulder. 

“His _brain_ needs to rest, you mean.” 

“All right, ladies, you are very persuasive. You win- rest it is.” You roll your eyes, and reach him at the side of the bed. You give him a quick kiss, and are about to leave when the nurse goes into the other room, promising that you’ll be there just another couple of minutes.

“You are about to call the office, aren’t you?” You smirk, still sitting on the bed, shaking your head almost in disbelief. Still, you are happy- more than you should. He could have died. It could have been worse than it is. And because he has underestimated his conditions – you both did.

You palm his cheek, feeling under your soft palm his beard, the stubble tickling your skin – it’s unfair how good it looks at him, even if he is in an hospital bed – and gives him a quick kiss on the cheek. “Maybe you should keep it. It’s not as bad as it looks,” you say, before leaving.

He chuckles, looking guilty, and indeed he makes the call, while you, once outside his room,cover your mouth whena wave of nausea hits you pretty hard. You hold your stomach, like on instinct, and the wheels in your brain start to turn. 

You thought it was a virus, or maybe food poisoning because you _both_ were feeling bad, but if it was Benny’s appendix causing his symptoms… what the hell caused _yours?_

You do the math, check your phone, and then you do it all over again. You have to be wrong. It can’t be. It just can’t. It’s impossible. Isn’t it? 

You are in bed, half-asleep, your room engulfed by darkness, when Benny quietly sneaks in under the covers, and gets close to you – so close he is nuzzling your forehead. “So, can I stay here even if I left the hospital earlier than I should have?”

You chuckle, getting comfy against him, your head under his chin, your hand over his beating heart- the most beautiful sound in the whole universe, something that almost moves you to tears. “Yeah, you are getting away with it this time. But only this time, counselor.”

“Well, I did come into this life with only one appendix, which now is gone, so I’d say we may _never_ get to repeat this experience at all.” He laughs lightly, kissing your hair once, twice, three times. 

You sigh, content. “At least, now we know that Chunk’s not all that bad as fist chair, which means that, _maybe,_ we can start revisit some interesting topics of conversation…” you lift your head, kiss your chin. 

“Sorry I got you all worried. Didn’t mean to. I really thought it was nothing. Besides, you haven’t felt well either, and I thought it was something we ate. Or, you know, a virus.” You don’t say a word. With teary eyes, you lift your face and look at Benny. “What?”

“Do you remember when we were talking about kids, a few months ago? It was after our first big fight. You said that you wanted for us to get married one day and one day we could have decided to have kids – adopt. In a couple of years. Once Horizon Labs were steadier and Bull didn’t need you full-time.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know, what…” he starts to say, and then he looks at you, mouth open, in awe, incredulous, and you nod, smiling, biting your lips. “Hang on. Honey, are you telling me....”

Laughing, between butterfly kisses, you nod again. “I _definitely_ didn’t have the same thing you did, Benny.”

“We are…” and he cries, tears of happiness, as he kisses you, holds you close, his hand protective over your stomach, looking amazed at you, at your belly, still flat, and yet… full of promises. “Are you really… are we…” He can’t even finish the sentence.

“I hadn’t felt right lately, and after you felt sick, I… I went to a doctor after they operated on you, because we couldn’t have the same thing, and then I started going through the numbers in my mind and… and I’m pregnant, Benny.”

“So, the… the nausea, and the upset stomach… and the… the mood swings… and everything else…”

“They were all symptoms of the pregnancy. Doctor said I’m in the fifth week. There is still a long way to go, and we’ll have to check on a lot of things, _worry_ about a lot of things, but, yeah, it’s, it’s really happening. We’re having a baby.” 

“I’ll be a dad.” He kisses you, and laughs and then he kisses you again and he holds you, loosely. “I’m gonna be a daddy. And… and Bull and Izzy will be uncle and aunt, and our kids will grow up together, and, and we will rise our kids together and…God, I… I love you, you know, right?”

“I love you, too, Benny. Thank you. I… I didn’t think I wanted this until the doctor told me I was expecting and… I’m so sorry You weren’t’ there, but I promise you, you’ll be so much involved it will drive you crazy!” You laugh, and kiss him. 

“I guess we’ll have to rethink the whole idea about a June wedding, right?” He laughs, and collapses against his pillow, one hand overhis eyes. “Oh, boy. Bull’s gonna kill me. I knocked up his precious surrogate sister.” 

“Nah. You know how peculiar he is – after all, his baby is two weeks old and is still just _Baby Bull._ Is it even legal? I mean, aren’t there supposed to be names on birth certificates? Like, _actual names?”_

“Do you know what we’ll do?” He sinkers, and looks at you. “We are gonna show him and that hyper-organized perfectionist of my sister that we are _way better_ than them. We’re gonna start round up names _right now,_ and we’ll have them picked up by the time Baby Colòn will join us.”


	86. 4.16 Missing

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “You realize I’ve known that nice woman you call your fiancée for over twenty years, right? Don’t to brag about it, but I can always say when she is about to have her period. Each twenty-eight days, as precise as a Swiss clock.”  
> “That’s kind of creepy.”  
> “No, this is called self-defense. You’ve seen your lovely fiancée when she gets PMS, right? Not the easiest person to be around. Besides, when she is about to get her period, she always craves those weird chocolate mint chip cookies. That’s a big warning.”

As soon as he gets- finally, hopefully – his niece’s name, Benny, chuckling, goes to leave Bull’s office, looking with a lifted eyebrow at his best friend, half-asleep on the couch in the office.

“Don’t be so smug about this, young man. Sooner rather than later you’ll go through this whole ordeal on your own.” With a foot already out of the threshold, Benny stops, and, slowly, awfully so, he turns, and closes the door at his back. 

“I’m sorry, what did you just say?” He asks, faking ignorance, making Bull snort in amusement. 

“Uhm, I’m sorry, but, you realize I’ve known that nice woman you call your fiancée for, Uhm, let me see? Right, over twenty years. Don’t to brag about it, but I can always say when she is about to have her period. Each twenty-eight days, as precise as a Swiss clock.”

“You can….” Benny sighs, puzzled, looking for the right words and yet, feeling at loss. He sighs, scratching lazily the back of his head as he approaches his friend. “Wow. That’s kind of creepy.”

“No, this is called self-defense. You’ve seen your lovely fiancée when she gets PMS, right? Not the easiest person to be around.” Taking off his glasses, he chuckles, lightly. “Besides, when she is about to get her period, she _always_ craves those weird chocolate mint chip cookies. That’s a big warning.”

Sighing and in silence, Benny goes to sit next to Bull, hands over his knees as he stares into the void. 

“Let me guess, you already have the names picked up.” Bull smiles, patting his friend on the shoulder- and all that Benny can do is nod, laughing.

“Anna for a girl, Oscar for a boy.”

Bull chuckles, sighing a bit dreamily. “They are good names. They are nice names.”

“Ah, I don’t know. I mean, Anna’s full of grace, but Oscar? It means friend of the deer, so…” he shrugs.

“Yes, but,” Bull chuckles, playing with his glasses. “they are names that are Spanish and English and French and Russian – she loves Beth, and it’s important to our girl that the only grandparent that this child will have will be… honored, considered, in a way. Together with _your_ roots and hers.”

“Speaking of names… Astrid it is?” Benny demands, looking expectantly at his friend and colleague, making Bull laugh – and yet, he is serious when he talks next. 

“Benny, you guys don’t need to start a college found for my child- you’ve got yoursto think about. School, and, and sports, or ballet, or whatever.”

“Bull, we can afford to.” Benny sighs. “We can afford to. Between my salary, and some good investments, and besides, my fiancée comes from old money.Of the kind that you put aside and don’t use unless there’s a really good reason for it.”

“I thought she didn’t want to touch her parents’ money. That she was still too mad with her father.” 

Benny smiles as he pats Bull on the shoulder. “Yeah, but I told you- she finally has a good reason.”

You are sitting on the couch, cross-legged, looking at a documentary on Disney+ and eating cashews from a small china bowl when Benny comes back home. He leaves coat and briefcase on an armchair and goes to sit next to you, cuddling your body against his as he kicks his shoes off. You lay against him, your head over his heart. He runs his left hand over your arm, while he steals some cashews from “your” bowl.

“Did it end well?” You just ask. You don’t want for Benny to talk with you about cases you don’t work with TAC on- it’d be a breach of trust with his clients, and, as you aren’t his wife yet, you don’t want to risk being called on the stand by the other side to testify to what’s being said to you in bed late at night. 

“Yeah. It ended well.” He inhales lightly, and, even if you can’t see his features, you just know that he is keeping his eyes closed, nuzzling your hair. “So, what arewe looking at?”

“ _Born in China._ It’s filled with families with their cubs living in mainland China. _And_ it’s narrated by John Krasinsky.”

“Basically, beautiful and scenic footage voiced by Jack Ryan.” He snorts, because he knows you well enough to remember that, yes, you may not like TV too much, but Amazon’s Jack Ryan is something you find irresistible. “Honey… Bull knows. I haven’t told him, but… he just knew. Said he noticed a couple of months ago that you stopped having your period because you weren't craving chocolate mint cookies any longer ~~~~.”

You snort. “It’s creepy, and yet, totally predictable.”

“Yeah.” He sighs, a bit worried, a bit sad. “I’m kind of jealous. Sometimes, he knows you better than I do.”

“He has known me longer. And ~~~~even if we’ve known each other for a long time…” You half-turn into his embrace, and kiss his chin, lazily, smiling. “we were only acquaintances. Jason was my friend. _Is_ my friend. My best friend. He is pretty much the only person I’d let get away with commenting my PMS.”

He snorts, laughing in your hair, and you join in. An hand sneaks under your shirt, but it’s not about any funny business. He just keeps it there, on your stomach, feeling you, and his baby, his gaze intent, deep and meaningful. 

You lift your shirt, and interlace your fingers with Benny’s as you nuzzle his neck as he keeps looking at your joined hands over your belly, still flat. “So, the baby should be around half an inch long by now. The hart is already formed and pumping blood, bones are hardening, fingers and toes are developing as well as ears and eyes and lips.”

“And… is it an Oscar or Anna? I mean, can we already know? Because I feel pretty bad about calling my baby _an it.”_

“Well, you can use the neutral they if it makes you feel any better. Also because we’ll not know for another month or so what we’re getting.” He nods, but you see he is deeply in thoughts, not really listening to you- or maybe he is, and there’s also something else on his mind. “Benny?”

“Bull made a remark about how this kid will only have Beth as a grandparent, but… _you have_ a father, and John may not have been a great dad, but he deserves to know that he is a grandparent.”

“He wouldn’t care anyway.” You snort, hugging a pillow, and yet, you don’t let Benny go. You’ve been thinking about it a lot, since you’ve discovered you were with child. Beth’s your only family- and she isn’t biologically your mother, just a sort of surrogate, Benny’s parents are gone. Your father wasn’t perfect, he did some mistakes, but maybe, just maybe…

“I’ll think about it.” You close your eyes, smiling, condescending, as you get comfy against your man’s chest, Krasinky’s voice lulling you to sleep. 


	87. 4.17 The Invisible Woman

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “Any idea what happened? What really happened, I mean?”  
> “I don’t know. I really have no idea.Maybe it was someone with a sick sense of humor. Or maybe it was someone mad with us, or our client. I just know that, before CDC told us it was just sugar, I really got scared. For Marissa, for Taylor, and… and I kept thinking about Taylor’s boy.”  
> “Yeah?”  
> “I kept wondering, what if it was me? What if I was the one inside the office when the card exploded? What if it was really anthrax?”

“Young Man, don’t you dare laughing at me. Not when you’ll be worse than this just in a few months.” Bull sighs, as he pinches the bridge of his nose. At his side, sitting in the company car, Benny snickers.

“Yep. And, cross over my heart, I can hardly wait.” He sighs, a bit dreamily, straightening his posture. “I swear, sometimes it feels like I’ve been waiting all my life for this. And then I look at the sonogram, and I feel at loss.” He seems in another place, his eyes are looking in the void, for what, Bull doesn’t know. Regrets, lost possibilities? Knowing Benny, it may be a big, fat yes. 

As Benny shakes his head, Bull friendly pats him on the shoulders, chuckling. “You’ve got this,” He says. “Trust me, if there someone out there in this crazy world who’s cut out to be a dad, that man, my friend, it’s you. You were _born_ to be a dad.”

“Yeah…” Benny nods. “Yeah, trust me, I want this. I… it’s just that, we’ve talked about that, right from the start. We’ve always wanted to have a big family, and, even if it wasn’t totally planned and we weren’t expecting for this, we’re over the moon. But I guess I’m a bit sad. Or maybe… just regretful.” 

Bull doesn’t say a word- he just lifts an eyebrow, knowing full well that Benny if, and when, he’ll be ready, he’ll talk. 

“It’s just that, between Astrid’s birth and my father’s anniversary, I’ve been thinking a lot about my parents lately. While growing up, they always pestered me and Izzy. They wanted for us to get married. To have kids. And now that we both have it, our parents aren’t here any longer to enjoy their grandkids.”

Bull, despite the many doctorates, doesn’t know what to say- he’s good at helping others, not the ones he is the closest with, after all- so he just squeezes his brother-in-law’s shoulder.

It’s not a grand gesture, and he doesn’t say a word. And yet, as small a gesture it is, it makes all the difference for his good friend.

Late at night, you are on the couch, a cup of tea on the coffee table and books and notepads spread all around you. Science, and forensic isn’t any different, is an ever-evolving field, and updating your knowledges is fundamental if you want to stay on top of the food chain. 

When your mobile rings on the table, you listlessly grab it, still turning the pages of a report on forensic analysis of frozen remains, your mouth half-full with hazelnuts. 

“Ehy babe, you gonna be home soon? ‘cause I could definitely do with some midnight snack. I was thinking Chinese? Because I’ve been craving vegetarian dumplings all day long…” You snicker, but, at the other side of the line, your beloved sighs heavily, and you can almost see him, the slumped shoulders, the dark circles under his eyes. “Benny?” You call his name, almost a prayer, as you feel yourself tensing, and your free hand goes to your belly, to your kid- Benny’s child, the fruit of your love, a universe of overcame possibilities condensed in just few tiny cells. 

“I’m… I’m fine.” He says at low voice, almost whispering. I just wanted to call you before you heard anything from the news. I wanted to be the one to tell you.” You can’t say a word, so you just swallow, feeling your eyes filling with silent tears. “Someone sent a card at the office. Marissa and Taylor opened it, and… well, there was… _something_ inside. CDC is already here, and they have quarantined the girls. Bull and I are sitting outside the office, they said that they’d come and talk with us soon, to… update us on the situation, so…”

“Something?” You say with a broken voice. “Do they think…”

“Yeah,” you can almost see him nodding over the phone. “Yeah. White powder. They believe it could be anthrax. Sent by a copycat or by the real perp. But, Bull and I were just talking with Marissa, and they seem to be fine.”

_ For now,  _ you both think at the same time. You both know it goes unsaid. 

And that things may change in an heartbeat for your friends… if it really is anthrax. 

You didn’t have the strength to go to bed, too worried about your friends. You did your best to wait for Benny, and yet, sleep won, and you slumbered on the couch still dressed and between books you didn’t even bother closing. It’s like that that Benny finds you when he comes back home- covered at best with a tiny old blanket you hold onto ever since you were a child, something that doesn’t strictly provide physical warmth, and yet, it has always soothed your troubled soul. You know it’s all in your mind, you’ve always known, and yet, every time, it does the trick…

“Uh?” You mumble, half-asleep, with heavy lids, as you feel, more than see, Benny kneeling before you. You the breath dead in your throat, you sit, and look at your partner- he is tired, his eyes are glassy, but he is smiled, relieved. 

You don’t need him to say anything- his look is worth more than words. 

“Oh, thank God.” You whisper, leaving a breath of relief you didn’t even fully know you were holding. “Any idea what happened? What _really_ happened, I mean?”

“I don’t know. I really have no idea.” He sighs, rubbing his eyes as he climbs onto the couch next to you. He squeezes your knee, his head thrown back, at closed eyes, and your heart painfully clenches, as it looks like Benny had just lost five years of his life in as many hours. “Maybe it was someone with a sick sense of humor. Or maybe it was someone mad with us, or our client. I just know that, before CDC told us it was _just sugar,_ I really got scared. For Marissa, for Taylor, and… and I kept thinking about Taylor’s boy.”

“Yeah?” You ask him, as you lazily scratch the back of Benny’s head, making him purr content, with satisfaction.

He sighs, nodding. “I kept wondering, what if it was me? What if I was the one inside the office when the card exploded? What if it was really anthrax?”

“But it wasn’t anthrax, and you weren’t there, Benny. You can’t feel guilty about things you have no control whatsoever.” You say. You are both reassuring him, easing his conscience, and yourself as well. After all, you almost when crazy with worry when you heard he had collapsed in court – and it was just an appendix. Just imagining his scenario, thinking that he could have died, that you could have been burying another man you loved…

At your side, Benny shakes his head, his lips in a tight line.

“I wasn’t worried about my life. I was thinking about _us._ Our kid. If something happened to me right now, you wouldn’t have any right whatsoever. I’ve been thinking about it all night long, and I want to get married. Now. I don’t think we should wait for the baby to be born.”

“Benny, I don’t know….” You close your eyes, sighing defeated. Ever since you were a child, you dreamt of the classic, perfect wedding, and, as you didn’t get it the first time around, you hoped that Benny, sharing a similar view of life as yourself, would have given you just that. 

He isn’t wrong, and yet, you can’t help but feeling like he may be slightly wrong.

“Honey, we’ll have it, I promise you- a big wedding with our sisters helping us out and arranging the ceremony just like tradition asks for, with the white dress, and the flowers, and the huge tasteless cake and everything else. Anything you want, really. But, it would mean the world to me if we were to go to City Hall and get married _now.”_

You stare in Benny’s dark eyes, and see the plea, the desperation in them…his love for you and your child. You cup his face, and he closes his eyes, leaning into your tender touch, and that’s when you leave a butterfly kiss on his lips, quick, affectionate, sweet. 

“Yes,” You say, sighing content, without a hint of doubt in your voice. “Of course I will.”


	88. 4.18 Off The Rails

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “So… what did Bull do this time?”   
> “How do you know it’s him?”   
> “Because I know you two. Bull’s pretty much the only person who can drive you so mad. So, what did he do this time? He accepted a case without consulting you? He let it go of a particularly good client? Tried to bribe a jury?”   
> “He doesn’t want for Astrid to be baptized!”

In your bedroom, you hear Benny mumbling on the phone with Izzy. They’ve been talking for what feels like hours, and the way he grunts, and clenches his teeth if you are not mistaken from the distance, it can’t be any good. 

_ Uh, uh, someone’s in trouble _ , you think. and if you were to guess… it’s probably Bull. 

Another ten minutes, and while you are folding your shirts, Benny walks in. He doesn’t say anything, just mumbles incoherently between himself (and yes, he is clenching his teeth) and he keeps taking tie after tie from the hanger, throwing them on the bed when they don’t suit his taste or his mood. 

“So… what did Bull do this time?” You carefully ask, your tone as neutral as possible, as you move to your jeans- preparing for the baby’s arrival, you are already nesting, making room for your kid, deciding what has to go and what can stay.

“How do you know it’s him?” He asks you, honestly surprised, stopping throwing ties in the air and looking confused at you.

You snicker. “Because I know you two. Bull’s pretty much the only person who can drive you so mad. So, what did he do this time? He accepted a case without consulting you? He let it go of a particularly good client? Tried to bribe a jury?” 

“He doesn’t want for Astrid to be baptized!” he hisses. Still at clenched teeth. 

“Ah.” You just say, deciding to keep your mouth shout on the matter. _But,_ you make the mistake of biting your lip and actually look pensive, which alert Benny that something is on your mind. 

Something that he may not like. At all. “C’mon, say it. I know you want to.” He pretty much orders you.

“I don’t know what you are talking about.” You buy yourself time, pretending to not get him, but he looks at you with that slimy eyes and that lifted eyebrow that scream that he knows you are dying to have your say in this peculiar conservation. 

You absent-mindlessly skim over the modern white gold cross at your neck- a gift from Beth when you had your confirmation back when you were a teen – and you know he thinks he knows where you may be getting… but this time, you know he’ll be disappointed.

“I know this is hard, but don’t bring this into work. And please, please, Benny- try to get where Bull comes from. Astrid’s got _two_ parents- and although you and Izzy are apparently avid believers, he is an atheist, so, _maybe_ , he just should have a saying into this as well. Besides, if you and Izzy make wall against him, he’ll just feel like he’ll just have to hang in there to his beliefs even more strongly than now.”

“Ah! So, you agree with him!” he chuckles, pointing a finger at him. 

You roll your eyes. “No, I don’t. But I’m trying to see his point, _honey.”_ You face him, one hand on your side, and from your pose, Benny knows it means he is in trouble. “Just because we believe in something, doesn’t mean he has to. Besides, this is _their_ discussion, not ours, and it’s unhealthy that you keep getting involved. Trust me, I know what I’m talking about- my sister married _my partner,_ and when they divorced it was _hell_ for me.”

“He is my boss, and she is my sister, of course I have to get involved!” he almost screams with an acute voice. 

“No, Benny, she is your sister but she is over forty years old. One thing is talking with you about her problems, another is expecting that you’d just resolve her conflicts with Bull in her place. I know you’d want to, but it’s not right, and it’s not healthy, and it’s not good for their home life, ours and our work life.”

“It’s Baptism, honey. It’s an holy sacrament. It cleans a newborn’s soul!”

You sigh, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, Benny, I’m Catholic, I went to Sunday school, too. I _know_ what Baptism is, even if I’m a scientist. Still, if you say something like that to Bull, do you know what will happen? He’ll get mad because you assumed that his baby needed cleansing at all!”

“It’s not just this, it’s... it’s tradition. All the babies in my family, they’ve been welcomed into the Catholic faith.”

“Yeah, and all the babies in your family have been convinced _after_ marriage, but I’m pretty sure both you and Izzy didn’t follow tradition on that.” Grinning, you pat your stomach, chuckling a little. Benny doesn’t even say a word, he just grabs his briefcase and storms out of the room, grunting something behind his teeth. 

You laugh, shaking your head, amused. 

When he comes back you are already holding a tie out for him, and when he delicately takes it from your hand, he looks a bit sad, a bit remorseful, and he gently kisses you on the lips, unable to stay mad at you for more than five minutes.. 

“Could you do this for me? Just once? For me and my fiancée?” Benny is practically begging, hanging by a thread as he and Bull are coming back to the office after the umpteenth day of trial.

“Are we still talking about Astrid getting baptized?” Bull asks, sighing. He is tired- he’d like to be done for work, and, frankly, with Benny too. “Benny, please, don’t put yourself _and_ your beloved significant other into this.”

“We are already into this, Bull. She is our niece. And she’ll be our kid’s cousin.”

“Listen, it’s not the baptism. If it was just for you, and Izzy, and my best friend… but… Izzy and I aren’t married, and yet, it’s a marriage, unless your sister decides it’s not when it doesn’t suits her.”

“I… don’t get your point?”

“Yeah, well, I don’t care, because it’s not for you to understand. It’s between your sister and me. You don’t have to get involved in this. You beloved other half isn’t supposed to get involved in this. No one but me and Izzy are supposed to get involved into this!”

Pouting, Benny turns to look at the road, and, petulant, he hisses, “all right, I’ll keep my nose out of it, but then, you and Izzy stop calling my home at every hour of night and day to complain about the other.” 

It’s past midnight when Benny finally comes back- he and Bull won the case, and went out to celebrate with the rest of their team for a celebratory dinner. You’ve neglected the offer, because you’ve felt tired, and because you’ve been working hours on another case for another client – the little sister of a friends of yours, an assistant district attorney you worked with in the past, has been accused of murdering her producer, and you’ve been helping Good Old Miles and his not quite girlfriend Claire to clear Phoebe’s name before it’s too late. 

“Ehy, you still awake? You didn’t have to wait for me.” Benny knees on the bed, still dressed, and throws briefcase and a gift box on the chair next to the bed, and kisses you, once, twice, sweetly and quick, but you smile against his lips, and, running your hand through his hair, you deepen the kiss and guides him on top of you as his hands start roaming your silky robe clad body.

He parts, and smiles at you, naughty. “You should really welcome me back home just like this more often, babe.” 

You chuckle, lifting an eyebrow. “Get used to this, babe. This is the kinkiest time of pregnancy. I’ll practically be all over you _all the time_.” 

Laughing, he lets himself fall at your side, and cuddles you as you spoon him. “Well, you’ll never hear me complain. Cross over my heart.”

“Good.” You smile, kissing his chin as your eyes fall on the box next to the bed, and you get more and more curios with each passing second. “Your client got you something? Marissa told me you rusted that so-called expert. I bet it was hot.”

“Meh. We just had to be glad that Taylor found what she was supposed to, because my closing argument was _lame._ As soon as the guy plead the fifth, the DA asked for recess and threw all accusations out of the window. Saved me the humiliation of the worst closing argument _ever.”_

“Hard to believe that. I mean, I’m _always_ hot and bothered when I hear you try your closing arguments. Besides, it couldn’t have been worse than, _ladies and gentlemen of the jury, what is there to say? Thank you for your attention._ ” You say, quoting the closing argument of one of the lawyers that stood form him in the long months Benny choose to distance himself from TAC and Jason.

“Well, it wasn’t _that bad,_ but the highest point was me talking about the falling three in the empty forest, and wondering if, when a train has a fatal accident, if the engineer doesn’t remember, it makes him automatically guilty.”

“What matters is that all’s well that ends well.” You elbow him lightly on the side, nuzzling Benny with a gentle smile. “That, and the fact that you got to roast a bad guy on the gridiron.” 

He nods, hands joined at the back of his head, smug and satisfied and just plain _content._ “Yeah. You? Everything’s going all right with your friend’s sister?”

You nod, all too satisfied for your own good.

“The judge and the DA dropped the charges when Miles and Claire presented the evidence against the real culprit as they were cross-examining him. It was a thing of beauty – not as good as you but pretty close. I mean, _of course_ without my team’s expert opinion they wouldn’t have gone anywhere, but Miles should really consider leaving the DA’S office and start working with Claire full time. They’d be a force to be reckoned with. Besides, a good looking man who looks dreamy with suit and tie _and_ gives great closing arguments? Half of the job is already done.”

Jokingly, Benny lifts an eyebrow. “Oh? Should I be jealous?”

You snort. “Ah, no. You’re the only Assistant District Attorney – well, _former_ ADA – I’ve ever fallen for. Besides, Miles has got eyes only for Claire. He tried to ask her out once a week for over _three months_ until she finally accepted.”

Benny gently caresses your belly on top of the covers, and smiles at the gesture, dreamy. You cover his hand with yours, appreciating the silence, almost worshipping it. “Do you know what day was today?”

“Besides the day we both won in our respective trials?” You nod, but he shakes his head. 

“We just entered the second trimester. I’m not completely out of the woods yet, but the doctor told me we can start telling people. Our families. The office.”

With eyes filled with tears, and a smile as bright as the sun, Benny kisses you, and then, he lies his head on your belly, like to try to feel baby’s heartbeat, even if he knows it’s impossible yet. You run an hand through his hair, quiet, calm… satisfied. “Thank you.”

You chuckle, lightly, a little taken aback by this statement, unsure of what he means exactly. “Uhm, well, thanks to you. I mean, I’m the one who hit the jackpot in this relationship. After all, who else would have taken an old spinster with a bad attitude like me?”

He turns and faces you. “Pretty sure we both did pretty great. I mean, if I were to leave Bull again, I could come and work for you. Oh, by the way, did I mention that we’re gonna be Astrid’s godparents?”

You snicker, messing his hair. “Admit it. You just wanted to have an excuse to get me in a dress.”

“Sure I do. After all, every time I get you to wear a dress…” He cages you with his body, and kisses you, once, twice, smiling against your skin. “I then get you _ou_ t of that dress as well.”


	89. 4.19 The Sovereigners

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “She remembers me so much of you and Bull. Especially you. You’ve always fought for the underdog in court. That’s what I’ve always liked about you. What made me fall in love with you.”  
> He kisses you, smiling, one hand running through your locks, the other caressing your quickly growing belly, feeling the soft caress of his kid’s kicks against his palm.

“They arrested the judge? _On the bench_?” You scream at low voice, eyes as big as saucers, as you fill the sink with water and soft lemon-scented bubbles. It’s already late, and yet you and Benny just finished dinner now. You may be wearing one of your yoga outfits, but Benny is still wearing his work-clothes, minus the jacket, sleeves rolled to his elbows as he helps you out washing the dishes. It’s helping him clearing his mind, like it helps talking with you. He normally doesn’t, but this time, he feel like he is at an impasse. 

He wants to protect this woman, and yet, he doesn’t know if he’ll be able to.

“Yep. They even mirandized her. And she is one of _those_ judges. You know, sort of an eye for an eye kind of person. Sentenced a drunk driver to live at the morgue surrounded by the bodies of car crashes victims, a landlord to stay in one of his rat-infested properties… And, it seems to be working. She has the lowest rate of recidivism of the County.Of course, none of those are major crimes, but, still…” He shrugs a little, and you get it.

You tsk.-tsk as you dry the dishes, Benny at your side doing the washing. “Well, I’ve always loved those kind of judges. Besides, arresting her on the bench seems pretty intense even for the feds. Especially since she was defending a witness who’s been lied to by the ADA.”

“Lied to… now, let’s not use such big words. The ADA honestly thought that the Feds wouldn’t have arrested her witness. Of course, that’s not something you are supposed to overlook, but I think she was in good faith.” He sighs, closing the water. “Still, it could cost the judge twenty-five years in jail, her license to practice, and her bench, which, all things considered, would be the lesser of all these evils combined together.” He sighs. He doesn’t say anything for the longest time, he just looks at the steady flow of the water in the skink, rising the dishes. 

Leaning with your back against the kitchen island, you cross your arms, elbowing Benny lightly on the side. “You remember my friend Sharon? We went to her wedding last July, she married my old supervisor…”

Benny lifts an eyebrow, facing you, mimicking your position. “Yeah. So?”

“So, Sharon used to work Major Crimes. She _always_ worked in tandem with the DA office. And her favorite sport was cutting deals, either for a testimony or jail time. To save money, time and to make sure someone would pay.” 

Benny pinches the bridge of his nose. He’d like to remind you that he knows already about all of this- he was an ADA, he had cut his good share of deals over the years. It wasn’t how he liked to play the game, but, still, he wasn’t new to this.

“So?” He asks you. 

“So? Why would anyone cut a deal if they were going to be arrested anyway?”

“Yeah, I know, trust me, honey, I know. I think she truly believes in justice, and that justice should serve the people, not the other way around. Still, getting against the system, it’s not easy. Everyone is against her right now, and the DA is trying to make it look like a publicity stunt, which is nothing further from the truth. And we started on the wrong foot, with thejudge finding her in contempt.

“Oh, please.” You snicker. “I think we’ve all pretty much been found in contempt, one time or another. When I was still working for the Crime Lab, there was this one lawyer who wanted me to answer just yes or no when, to get the big picture, I just _had_ to explain it all. And I did it. And the judge found me in contempt. Of course, it didn’t finish on my record because it was more like a show of brute force, but, still…”

“Honey, they saw our client. Being walked in jail. In handcuffs. It’s called seatback. A huge setback.”

“Or maybe it’s called being a person of principles? Which you should really know a couple of things about. I mean, you remember when you testified in court brining up a top secret operation you weren’t supposed to know about all to defend your client?”

“That’s not the same, and you know it.”

“Or maybe it is, and like all other lawyers and judges, she is the worse client possible. Something that you should remember as well.” He shakes his head, smiling. He corners you, and as you throw your arms at his neck, you shriek. “What? Benny! You need to prepare your closing argument!” You say, giggling. 

He nuzzles your neck as he carries you to your bedroom. “Yep, but first, I need to distress a little, and I know a very good way to do it…”

As you fall on the bed in a tangle of limbs, you lightly kiss him on the lips, then, you part, and you look at him. You run a finger along his features, delicate, the softest caress he has ever received and he leans on your touch, kissing your palm.

“What’s going through that mind of yours?” He asks, his voice low, as he cuddles against you, eyes in the eyes. 

“That she remembers me so much of you and Bull. Especially you. You’ve always fought for the underdog in court. That’s what I’ve always liked about you. What made me fall in love with you.”

He kisses you, smiling, one hand running through your locks, the other caressing your quickly growing belly, feeling the soft caress of his kid’s kicks against his palm.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And we are on pair with the show. Only two chapeters left for this season - one for the finale and one set afterward.


	90. 4.20 Wrecked

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I went to talk with a lawyer today. Izzy and I want for Benny and you to be Astrid’s guardians.”

You look outside your bedroom windows at the city skylight, at the thousands of artificial, man-made lights illuminating the city of New York. You’re in bed, a book in your lap, but you haven’t been able to concentrate and move past the second line. Alone and surrounded by the cacophony of sounds that make New York symphony, you lazily caress your belly. Your kid may not be showing, but it’s like they are just feeling your stress, your fears, how alone you feel right about now. 

Their kicks may just feel like butterflies fluttering their tiny delicate wings, and yet, it’s there, calming you down and keeping your company. And yet… yet, you can’t be calm. Not when your mind keeps going back to your lunch with Jason.

_ “So, what’s the secrecy? You killed someone and need my help getting rid of the body?” You snicker as you seat next to Jason at the counter of the quiet bar where he was waiting for you.  _

_ Your friend just smiles, lazily, nursing his drink- scotch with already melted ice. It looks like he hasn’t taken a sole sip yet, which it’s reassuring, and yet, it worries you. If Jason has been thinking of getting a drink, it’s because he’s been worried, and if Jason is worried- and if he is willing to let you see this side of him- it means it’s bad.  _

_ You cover his hand with your own, squeezing, reassuring. “Is everything all right? Did something happen to Izzy or Astrid?” you ask, but he shakes his head.  _

_ He doesn’t look at you, he simply stares at his reflection in the mirror behind the counter. He closes his eyes, takes a big breath, and then drops a bombshell on you. “I went to talk with a lawyer today. Izzy and I want for Benny and you to be Astrid’s guardians.” _

_ You sigh, retreating your hand and clenching your fist, your lips in a tight line. You puff through your nose and count to ten. “Okay, listen, I know that what happened with Taylor and her friend creeped you out, but, aren’t you putting the cart before the horse? I mean, what’s the chance of both you and Izzy dying at the same time, uh?” _

_ He snickers a little, looking at you sideways. “Aren’t scientist the ones that always like to be prepared?” _

_ Annoyed, you cross your arms as you signal the bartender you are ready to order - they got these trendy jar-like glasses with tiny umbrellas and thin straws, and, well, that iced lemon balm iced tea the woman next to you is drinking? It just looks to die for. _

_ “It’s just that, it makes sense, all right? You and Benny live here, she wouldn’t have to move. And you’re already in her life- and you’ll always be. I mean, how long has it been since I last saw Sarah anyway, uh? You’re more of a sister to me than she has been in years.”  _

“You still up?” Benny asks you as he leans over you in bed, tenderly kissing you before collapsing at your side on the bed. Still dressed, he’s gotten rid somewhere of shoes, jacket, tie and waistcoat, and he lies at your side on top of the covers, with his ankles crossed and his forearm covering his eyes.

He sighs, and you turn on your side to get a better look of him. 

“Did you talk with Bull and Izzy?” You ask, and yet, you are pretty sure you already know the answer. The same discussion you and Jason had, Benny must have had it with his older sister. 

He lies on his side of the bed and looks at you, serious and thoughtful. “I want to marry you,” he suddenly says, making you snicker. Lifting an eyebrow, you show him your left hand, with the family heirloom he gave you as a promise when he proposed at Christmas time. 

“You already proposed once, and, as you didn’t take it back, I think we’re still getting there.”

“I mean I want to marry you _now._ I think, on a legal standpoint, it’d be wiser to be married when the baby is born. And, you know, in case something happens to Jason and Izzy, it’d be easier to get custody if the guardians are…” 

“Married. The word you are looking for is _married,_ babe.” You chuckle lightly, cupping his cheek as he closes his eyes and purrs content; his light stubble tickles your palm, and you take the sensation in, all of it. You wonder if, in few months, once the baby is born, you’ll still get moments like these, of pure, blissful quiet. 

You sigh, pouting as you collapse on your pillow, facing the ceiling, arms crossed. “So, what, we are still thinking about a June wedding? I thought we said it wasn’t smart, as I’d be over 24 weeks along.”

“Actually, I was thinking about a _May_ wedding. And something very small. We can apply fora license next Monday, and get back there on Tuesday and get married at the clerk’s office. All we need is about seventy dollars and one witness, and it can be anyone. Even some random dude picked from the street.”

“But I wanted a big wedding this time around, a _real_ wedding. And I thought you wanted a proper ceremony, too. I’ve spent years of my life in love with you, thinking that you’d only ever seen me as a friend, and by some miracle you’ve fallen in love with _me._ I wanted the big white wedding in our Church with our friends and families and I wanted everyone to see how happy you make me and just how lucky we both are. I thought you wanted the same- I mean, you made such a fuss when Jase and Izzy considered not getting Astrid baptized, and yet you don’t want to marry me in church? I’m a _widow,_ not a divorcee. I can get married in church!” 

“Oh, but I want to marry you in our church, and I want for you to make peace with your dad so that he could walk you down the aisle, with Bull as my best man, and your sisters as bridesmaids, and Astrid as ring-bearer and Chunk helping you choosing your wedding dress. Just not now, maybe next year, or this winter- I’ve always fancied a December wedding under the snow.” It’s his time to sneaker as he nuzzles your neck first, leaving butterfly kisses all over your face, especially at the corner of your lips. You stop pouting, leaving room to a radiant smile. “But I want to marry you now. I know we are already registers and everything, but I need to be married to you. It’s hard to explain, but…”

He takes a big breath at closed eyes, and rests his hand over your belly. Through the thin fabric of your t-shirt, he can feel the baby kicking, as if they were tickling his palm, and you gently run your hand through his dark hair, calming both of you down.

“I do.” You say, your voice so low he can barely make what you are saying. “I want to marry you. To be your wife. Now. Let’s do this- we got to the clerk’s next week, get a license, and get back there the next day to get married. We don’t need a big, white, fat wedding. Just the two of us. It’s _you_ I’m marrying, not all of our guests.”

Resting his head on your chest, he smiles, grinning. “Just so you know: I still want you to wear a dress.” 


	91. 4.21 Ever After

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “I’ll be very happy to be there- after all, I was the one who told our forensic investigator that you were interested and a good prospect.” Marissa smiles, squeezing Benny’s shoulder as he looks at her quizzically- this thing, that she knew and shared with his beloved that he was crazy about her, it’s a piece of information he hadn’t known about until now. “And I already have the perfect dress in mind! Text me a time and place!”

“You know, I honestly didn’t think you would have gone through with this, especially after all the ruckus for Astrid’s baptism. Kudos for that, babe.” You chuckle, smirking, at your significant other, as you sign the application before the city clerk, as he checks your ID and your documents. You pass the pen to Benny, and if looks could kill, well, you’d be dead already. 

“I did propose to you. And,” he underlines, signing the document with such force that he almost tears the thin paper in two. “I was the one who said, let’s do this, _now_.”

You’d laugh, but he’s been enough mad already, so you resist. “Well, I did think you were all for the big white wedding, given that you’ve never been married before and you’ve always been…” You pause, looking for the right words, trying, really, really hard, to not offend Benny. “Well, you are very… Catholic, Benny. More than me.”

“I know, but I’m also a lawyer, and I think that it’s always better for a child to be born _inside_ a married couple, not just cohabitating parents. Besides, I told you, I haven’t given up on a proper wedding yet. Just in due time. Once Oscar is born, we’ll go to talk with our priest, take the necessary classes, make all the arrangements and get married in a church, with all of our families, our friends, flowers, violins, your father giving you away, Izzy walking me down the aisle and Bull as best man. Just… Not now.”

“Maybe she’ll be an Anna.” You say as you gently caress your belly. At twenty weeks, you are finally starting to show, even if your baby is just as big as an avocado, and even if you _could_ know by now what you are having, you talked Benny into choosing not to: you want to be surprised – even if your doctor seems to think that the chance of having a girl may be higher, as you’ve suffered for longer than expected of morning sickness. 

Smiling, without taking your right hand away from your belly, you pass your credit card to the clerk, which unnerves Benny even more, as he rolls his eyes and shakes his head, grunting lightly. “ _I_ should be paying for _this, me!”_ The clerk eyes you suspiciously, squirming her eyes behind a pair of old-fashioned turtle glasses, and you do your best impression of the sweetest girl alive, fluttering your eyelashes. 

She doesn’t say a word as she gives you the receipt to sign- clearly, you didn’t impress her too much. Or at all. 

You sigh, with complete nonchalance, rolling your eyes- frankly, you don’t see the problem at all. “It’s just 35 dollars. Besides, if it makes you feel any better, you can pay tomorrow at City Hall. Although, commonly, it’s the bride who pays for the wedding, so…” You just shrug.

As he gives back the signed document to the clerk, Benny doesn’t stop to look at you, annoyed. He is about to say something, but then he decides not to. Smiling with the falsest smile ever known to humanity, he turns his attention to the clerk as she handles you your license. 

“You are good to go. Once the twenty-four period is up, you’re free to marry.” She says, already calling the next number in line as you are still at her cubicle. 

“You could have at least worn something nicer. You’ve got plenty of dresses in our wardrobe, couldn’t you pick one?” He asks, half-serious, as you walk arm in arm towards the exit the office of the City Clerk and he eyes your clothes – a beige suit, a white shirt, and _sneakers_ , while Benny, as always, is impeccable in one of his three piece suit – but then again, between Izzy and Chunk’s advice, it’d be difficult to be anything but perfect all the time.

“First, this is a perfectly respectable outfit. Second,” You smile as you give him a butterfly kiss on the lips. “I’ll wear one tomorrow, I promise. With those killing heels you like so much.”

“No jeans this time. We can’t have the proper wedding I promised you yet, but I can at least give you this- a wedding with _a dress.”_

“I know, I know- I’ve already picked the dress up. It’s that cute ivory number with flowers and short sleeves.” You laugh, remembering your first wedding, and reminding of Benny’s promises from a long time ago, when you weren’t even together yet. You know he feels guilty, but you don’t want him to. It’s not about big and white or even a church (even if you wouldn’t mind it too much- and he is right, eventually, you’ll have it). You want _him._ “You sure you want to think about the witness? I can ask Hernandez. It’s not like he can’t ask an intern to fill in for him at the lab…”

“Nope. I’ll ask Chunk to take two hours tomorrow morning, or Marissa, or Danny.” He says, shaking his head., and quickly kisses you on the lips as he calls for a cab, and before leaving, he steals two last kisses – one on your lips, one on your belly, as you laugh, ruffling his hair. 

“Ehy, Chunk, can I ask you a favor?” Later at the office, while Bull is wining and dining a potential new client, Benny pats his colleague and now fellow lawyer on the shoulder as he arrives at his back in the break room. “I’d need your help with something tomorrow morning, it’s just a couple of hours, even less… and as we don’t have any cases right now, I was wondering if you could join me, and maybe Marissa too?” he asks, joining his hands and looking at his friend expectantly. As on cue, Marissa smirks, feeling as she was part of the conversation. 

“Oh? What for?” She asks, grinning.

“Well, the fact is, I’m about to get married.” Benny calmly states.

“Yeah, that’d be the meaning of the rock on your girlfriend’s finger.” Chunk snorts as he puts plenty of sugar in his coffee. Black and deadly sweet, just like he likes it.

“No, Ah- I mean _I’m_ getting married _now.”_ Benny pauses, as for dramatic effect. “As in, tomorrow morning. We got the license this morning, and… and _she_ thinks we are getting married at The Clerk’s office, but, I’ve already arranged everything. I chose a spot that means a lot for us, and I bought rings at Tiffany’s…”

Marissa doesn’t know if laughing, smirking, being surprised or whatever. So, she just clears her voice. “So, let me get this straight. _You_ arranged your wedding. The man who can’t choose his socks without either his sister, Chunk or his girlfriend’s help.”

“Of course I didn’t!” He runs his hand through his hair, huffing, chuckling. “I just picked the place- right before the restaurant where we had our first proper dinner together – and asked a company to arrange everything for tomorrow. All I need is for you to show up as witnesses.”

“Are you sure you wouldn’t prefer Bull?” Chunk asks. “I mean, I know you’re friends, you’re _family-_ I wouldn’t be offended.”

But Benny shakes his head. “Nah. If I ask Bull, Izzy will want to be here, and if Izzy will be there, her family will get mad because _my family_ was at our wedding while hers hadn’t even been informed we wanted to elope! So, it will just be us, the two of you, an officiant and a photographer. _And_ a violinist. Then, we are heading to the Bocuherie to have lunch, where I’ll be very happy to have you as my guests.”

“I’ll be very happy to be there- after all, I was the one who told our forensic investigator that you were interested and a good prospect.” Marissa smiles, squeezing Benny’s shoulder as he looks at her quizzically- this thing, that she knew and shared with his beloved that he was crazy about her, it’s a piece of information he hadn’t known about until now. “And I already have the perfect dress in mind! Text me a time and place!”

“Speaking of clothes…” Chunk eyes his friend, looking at him with intent, circling, an hand on his chin, as he was studying the lawyer. “You already know what you are wearing?”

Taken aback, Benny squeezes his eyes, quizzically. He looks at his shoes, his jacket, pondering his possible choices. “One of my suits? I just don’t know which one yet.”

Shaking his head, Chunk sighs. “All right, let’s at least try to compliment her dress- any idea what is the love of your life wearing?”

“Ah, this.” He takes his phone from his jacket, and show the last picture taken. It’s a particular of the beige floral dress with pale pink rosebuds you’ve chosen- after the trip to the clerk’s office, he’s sneaked back home to get a pic and show it to his fellow lawyer/fashion enthusiast, in order to get the proper advice. “This, _and_ those shoes that I just _love_. Purple suede and heels that could kill. She is just so sexy in them…”

Chunk shakes his head, rolling his eyes. He may be a lawyer now, but there’s a part of him that will forever be the young man who worked at Vogue, the talented up-and-coming designer. “Only you would call _those shoes_ some Eden Heels from Ralph & Russo- those shoes are worthy a small fortune, Benny!”

“Really?” Benny lifts an eyebrow. “I just thought that the heels made her walk just all the sexier.”

“Metallic heels? Those are handmade creations, and that metallic heel, as you call it, is an ornamental filigree of vine leaves made with a traditional jewelry process. Those are not shoes, they are a 2525$ piece of art!” He sighs, pinching the bridge of his nose. “All right. Wear the grey suit. Three pieces, remember, it’s important. Crispy white shirt. And as for the tie….”

He waves to Benny to follow him, and they enter in what used to be Chunk’s temple, where he’s always kept everything to dress people up for mock and real trials. “ _I think_ that this should just go along with her shoes- it even comes with a pocket square.” He studies a tie, skimming over the fabric as to appreciate it. It’s purple- the same purple as your shoes – with small grey lines interlacing, creating a reticulate. It’s classic and yet it’s not formal and it’s just perfect, Chunk thinks. 

You’ll definitely have a nice wedding, Chunk thinks, and Benny… well, Benny will make you happy. 

You are putting on your earrings when the doorbell rings, and Benny, already dressed in his finest suit, with a tie that matches your shoes in a way that you wouldn’t believe possible, disappears to open the door. You are still before the mirror, wearing your cute short-sleeved, midi dress, when he reappears. An hand behind his back, he smirks as he kisses your cheek. 

“What now?” You demand, looking at him quizzically. 

“Surprise!” He smiles as he shows you what he was hiding- it’s a bouquet. “Flowers for my love. I know it will last all but ninety seconds, that we’ll not exchange vows or rings, but, Ehy, at least we’ll have something nice on the table this evening.” 

You take the flowers in your hands, blushing as you inhale their scent, taking it in. It’s sweet, and it’s peculiar- and it’s not the usual bridal bouquet, with yes, white flowers, but they are freesias, your favorites, and there are green leaves. Plus, instead of a ribbon or lace, there’s just this string, making it looks like something very country or bo-ho.

Although he’d want to kiss, Benny doesn’t dare to - you have just done your make-up- so he just goes for your hair instead. He takes your hand, your marriage license in your purse, and you walk from your apartment to Bull’s car, a gentle concession on this day- even if your best friend doesn’t know why Benny needed the day off and where you are headed. 

… and neither does you, apparently, because the driver drives past the Clerk Office without stopping there.

“I think we missed our stop?” You say, as you look around. Benny just smiles, squeezing your hand as to reassure that everything is all right and he knows what he is doing, and all you can do is nod. 

You stop less than ten minutes later, alongside Union Square, and Benny helps you out. “Just close your eyes.” You do as instructed, walking arm in arm with your beloved, and open your eyes only when you stop… and the breath dies in your throat as a violin attack the starting notes of a tune you’ve always loved. 

You don’t know if smiling or crying. 

You are in Union Square Park, right before the Bocuherie, where you and Benny had your first date, a night when you had been stood up by a man who, after all, wasn’t as interesting as you previously believed. You are standing before the Washington Equestrian Statue, surrounded by flowers and singing birds (only in New York), Chunk, always immaculate with his catchy style, at Benny’s side, Marissa – beautiful with a teal V-neck dress and with a bouquet like yours but smaller- at yours, and, and…

_ And _ an officiant. _And_ a photographer. _And music_ – Vivaldi’s Winter, played by the single violin.

Yeah. Blaming the hormones, you’d cry. I mean, you are supposed to, right? Benny is giving you the wedding of your dreams, and not the ninety second ceremony you would have had at the City Clerk Office. 

“Oh, God,” You sniff. “Are we going to say vows? Because I didn’t prepare any, and…”

“That’s okay,” he smiles, squeezing your shoulders. “We can keep it simple for now. I do’s will be enough if you want.”

You nod, as you handle over the license to the officiant, a nice enough man in his fifties, with shaky hands.

“We are gathered here today to join this man and this woman in matrimony. You have come here to share in this formal commitment they make to one another, to offer your love and support to this union, and to allow this couple to start their married life together.” 

He pauses, smiling kind and clears his voice as Marissa takes your bouquet from you. “So, without further ado… Do you take this woman to be your wedded wife?” He asks, as his gaze fixes on Benny, who’s taken your hands in his under the watchful gaze of passers-by and a small crowd of onlookers and tourists snapping pictures of this impromptu wedding.

Benny nods, whispering a strangled I do as he looks at you with misty eyes, and with the happiest smile you’ve ever seen on his face- even better than when you told him you were pregnant. 

“And do you take this man to be your wedded husband?”

“I do.” You nod, sniffing. Chunk’s rolling his eyes- your make-up is smudged and ruined already. You’ll be a mess by the end of the ceremony, and yet you don’t care.

“May I have the rings, please?” Chunk, this time smiling, nods, producing a small box from his jacket, blue robin eggshell. He opens it, and presents the simple white bands to you.“Now repeat after me: I give you this ring, as a daily reminder of my love for you.” 

You both do as instructed, first Benny, than you, and you can’t stop crying. “By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I….”

“Wait!” Benny stops him, and for what feels to you as the longest time, you fear he may have changed his mind, and that he’d want to leave you, and your baby, and live his life on his own. But his loving gaze tells another story. “I… Can I say something?”

The officiant checks his watch- yes, there’s still time. The client paid for up to an hour, it’s been just twenty minutes, so he can allows that, and smiling, he nods, andBenny takes a big breath,as to steady himself. 

“God only knows if I didn’t make a lot of mistakes with you in the past. I haven’t always been perfect, so, that we are here today, that you’ve accepted _me,_ it’s… I’ll always be thankful to whatever forces are in the universe for this. And that’s why, ” he closes his eyes, pausing. “today I promise to respect you always.To be a true and loving companion. The best husband and parent that I can be and to commit myself forever to our family.”

“Oh, Benny…” You wipe a tear away with one hand, the other still squeezing his. The officiant is about to resume his speech, but you shake your head, feeling empowered and moved by your husband’s words. 

“I thought I didn’t know how to love. That I was just like my dad- destined to be alone. And yet, you changed my mind. You showed me what true love really is. You… you _moved_ me, even before I knew what it meant to love you. That’s why I take you to be the partner of my days, the companion of my house, the friend of my life. To bear together whatever trouble and sorrow life may lay on us, and share together whatever good and joyful things it may bring us.”

Done with your vows, the officiant smiles, resuming his speech. “By the power of your love and commitment, and the power vested in me, I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss each other!” 

…and you kiss, between the cheers of people you’ll never walk by ever again in your life, your friends clapping their hands as you hear Marissa sniff delicately.

You kiss him and you cry as you do so, one of Benny’s hand on the small of your back, the other on your belly, while you run your fingers through his hair, messing them. Marissa and Chunk congratulates you, squeezing your shoulders and kissing you on the cheeks as you part, breathless, a smile as big as the moon, while the officiant shakes your hands and congratulate you.

As Benny signs one last document, Marissa takes you aside, and whisper in your ear, smiling, happy and proud. “So, didn’t I tell you that he was the love of your life and that one day you’d be here?”

With glassy eyes, you smile, as you look at Chunk patting Benny on the shoulder, the bouquet still in your hands. “Yeah,” You admit. “You did say that. And you were right.”

She leans with her head over your shoulder, massaging lightly the small of your back, and you walk to the guys – and you kiss Benny on the cheek. 

“Oh? What for?” He asks, and you shrugs as you walk hand in hand, approaching your favorite restaurant.

You don’t tell him anything. Because, somehow, you are sure he just knows- he feels this, too. 

This is happiness. 

This, is happily ever after. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, this is pretty much about it for season 4. See you next October for the now official season five- or whenever it's gonna be released.  
> And meanwhile, rememember: stay safe!


End file.
